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diff --git a/1613-h/1613-h.htm b/1613-h/1613-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..41dbb34 --- /dev/null +++ b/1613-h/1613-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11443 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Count Bunker, by J. Storer Clouston + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Count Bunker, by J. Storer Clouston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Count Bunker + Being a Bald yet Veracious Chronicle Containing some Further + Particulars of Two Gentlemen Whose Previous Careers Were + Touched Upon in a Tome Entitled "The Lunatic At Large" + +Author: J. Storer Clouston + +Release Date: September 26, 2008 [EBook #1613] +Last Updated: March 15, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COUNT BUNKER *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Keller, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + COUNT BUNKER + </h1> + <h4> + Being A Bald Yet Veracious Chronicle Containing Some Further Particulars + Of Two Gentlemen Whose Previous Careers Were Touched Upon In A Tome + Entitled <br />"The Lunatic At Large” + </h4> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By J. Storer Clouston + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>COUNT BUNKER</b> </a><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_EPIL"> EPILOGUE </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + COUNT BUNKER + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + It is only with the politest affectation of interest, as a rule, that + English Society learns the arrival in its midst of an ordinary Continental + nobleman; but the announcement that the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg had + been appointed attache to the German embassy at the Court of St. James was + unquestionably received with a certain flutter of excitement. That his + estates were as vast as an average English county, and his ancestry among + the noblest in Europe, would not alone perhaps have arrested the attention + of the paragraphists, since acres and forefathers of foreign extraction + are rightly regarded as conferring at the most a claim merely to + toleration. But in addition to these he possessed a charming English wife, + belonging to one of the most distinguished families in the peerage (the + Grillyers of Monkton-Grillyer), and had further demonstrated his judgment + by purchasing the winner of the last year's Derby, with a view to + improving the horse-flesh of his native land. + </p> + <p> + From a footnote attached to the engraving of the Baron in a Homburg hat + holding the head of the steed in question, which formed the principal + attraction in several print-sellers' windows in Piccadilly, one gathered + that though his faculties had been cultivated and exercised in every + conceivable direction, yet this was his first serious entrance into the + diplomatic world. There was clearly, therefore, something unusual about + the appointment; so that it was rumored, and rightly, that an + international importance was to be attached to the incident, and a + delicate compliment to be perceived in the selection of so popular a link + between the Anglo-Saxon and the Teutonic peoples. Accordingly “Die Wacht + am Rhein” was played by the Guards' band down the entire length of Ebury + Street, photographs of the Baroness appeared in all the leading + periodicals, and Society, after its own less demonstrative but equally + sincere fashion, prepared to welcome the distinguished visitors. + </p> + <p> + They arrived in town upon a delightful day in July, somewhat late in the + London season, to be sure, yet not too late to be inundated with a + snowstorm of cards and invitations to all the smartest functions that + remained. For the first few weeks, at least, you would suppose the Baron + to have no time for thought beyond official receptions and unofficial + dinners; yet as he looked from his drawing-room windows into the gardens + of Belgrave Square upon the second afternoon since they had settled into + this great mansion, it was not upon such functions that his fancy ran. + Nobody was more fond of gaiety, nobody more appreciative of purple and + fine linen, than the Baron von Blitzenberg; but as he mused there he began + to recall more and more vividly, and with an ever rising pleasure, quite + different memories of life in London. Then by easy stages regret began to + cloud this reminiscent satisfaction, until at last he sighed— + </p> + <p> + “Ach, my dear London! How moch should I enjoy you if I were free!” + </p> + <p> + For the benefit of those who do not know the Baron either personally or by + repute, he may briefly be described as an admirably typical Teuton. When + he first visited England (some five years previously) he stood for + Bavarian manhood in the flower; now, you behold the fruit. As + magnificently mustached, as ruddy of skin, his eye as genial, and his + impulses as hearty; he added to-day to these two more stone of Teutonic + excellences incarnate. + </p> + <p> + In his ingenuous glance, as in the more rounded contour of his waistcoat, + you could see at once that fate had dealt kindly with him. Indeed, to hear + him sigh was so unwonted an occurrence that the Baroness looked up with an + air of mild surprise. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Rudolph,” said she, “you should really open the window. You are + evidently feeling the heat.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not ze heat,” replied the Baron. + </p> + <p> + He did not turn his head towards her, and she looked at him more + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, then? I have noticed a something strange about you ever since + we landed at Dover. Tell me, Rudolph!” + </p> + <p> + Thus adjured, he cast a troubled glance in her direction. He saw a face + whose mild blue eyes and undetermined mouth he still swore by as the + standard by which to try all her inferior sisters, and a figure whose + growing embonpoint yearly approached the outline of his ideal hausfrau. + But it was either St. Anthony or one of his fellow-martyrs who observed + that an occasional holiday from the ideal is the condiment in the sauce of + sanctity; and some such reflection perturbed the Baron at this moment. + </p> + <p> + “It is nozing moch,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know what it is. You have grown so accustomed to seeing the same + people, year after year—the Von Greifners, and Rosenbaums, and all + those. You miss them, don't you? Personally, I think it a very good thing + that you should go abroad and be a diplomatist, and not stay in + Fogelschloss so much; and you'll soon make loads of friends here. Mother + comes to us next week, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Your mozzer is a nice old lady,” said the Baron slowly. “I respect her, + Alicia; bot it vas not mozzers zat I missed just now.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Life!” roared the Baron, with a sudden outburst of thundering enthusiasm + that startled the Baroness completely out of her composure. “I did have + fun for my money vunce in London. Himmel, it is too hot to eat great + dinners and to vear clothes like a monkey-jack.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a what?” gasped the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + To hear the Baron von Blitzenberg decry the paraphernalia and splendors of + his official liveries was even more astonishing than his remarkable + denunciation of the pleasures of the table, since to dress as well as play + the part of hereditary grandee had been till this minute his constant and + enthusiastic ambition. + </p> + <p> + “A meat-jack, I mean—or a—I know not vat you call it. Ach, I + vant a leetle fun, Alicia.” + </p> + <p> + “A little fun,” repeated the Baroness in a breathless voice. “What kind of + fun?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not,” said he, turning once more to stare out of the window. + </p> + <p> + To this dignified representative of a particularly dignified State even + the trees of Belgrave Square seemed at that moment a trifle too + conventionally perpendicular. If they would but dance and wave their + boughs he would have greeted their greenness more gladly. A good-looking + nursemaid wheeled a perambulator beneath their shade, and though she never + looked his way, he took a wicked pleasure in surreptitiously closing first + one eye and then the other in her direction. This might not entirely + satisfy the aspirations of his soul, yet it seemed to serve as some vent + for his pent-up spirit. He turned to his spouse with a pleasantly + meditative air. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see old Bonker vunce more,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “Bunker? You mean Mr. Mandell-Essington?” said she, with an apprehensive + note in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “To me he vill alvays be Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness looked at him reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “You promised me, Rudolph, you would see as little as possible of Mr. + Essington.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ja, as leetle—as possible,” answered the Baron, though not with + his most ingenuous air. “Besides, it is tree years since I promised. For + tree years I have seen nozing. My love Alicia, you vould not have me + forget mine friends altogezzer?” + </p> + <p> + But the Baroness had too vivid a recollection of their last (and only) + visit to England since their marriage. By a curious coincidence that also + was three years ago. + </p> + <p> + “When you last met you remember what happened?” she asked, with an ominous + hint of emotion in her accents. + </p> + <p> + “My love, how often have I eggsplained? Zat night you mean, I did schleep + in mine hat because I had got a cold in my head. I vas not dronk, no more + zan you. Vat you found in my pocket vas a mere joke, and ze cabman who + called next day vas jost vat I told him to his ogly face—a + blackmail.” + </p> + <p> + “You gave him money to go away.” + </p> + <p> + “A Blitzenberg does not bargain mit cabmen,” said the Baron loftily. + </p> + <p> + His wife's spirits began to revive. There seemed to speak the owner of + Fogelschloss, the haughty magnate of Bavaria. + </p> + <p> + “You have too much self-respect to wish to find yourself in such a + position again,” she said. “I know you have, Rudolph!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron was silent. This appeal met with distinctly less response than + she confidently counted upon. In a graver note she inquired— + </p> + <p> + “You know what mother thinks of Mr. Essington?” + </p> + <p> + “Your mozzer is a vise old lady, Alicia; but we do not zink ze same on all + opinions.” + </p> + <p> + “She will be exceedingly displeased if you—well, if you do anything + that she THOROUGHLY disapproves of.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron left the window and took his wife's plump hand affectionately + within his own broad palm. + </p> + <p> + “You can assure her, my love, zat I shall never do vat she dislikes. You + vill say zat to her if she inquires?” + </p> + <p> + “Can I, truthfully?” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, my own dear!” + </p> + <p> + From his enfolding arms she whispered tenderly— + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will, Rudolph!” + </p> + <p> + With a final hug the embrace abruptly ended, and the Baron hastily glanced + at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, nearly had I forgot! I must go to ze club for half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Must you?” + </p> + <p> + “To meet a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “What friend?” asked the Baroness quickly. + </p> + <p> + “A man whose name you vould know vell—oh, vary vell known he is! But + in diplomacy, mine Alicia, a quiet meeting in a club is sometimes better + not to be advertised too moch. Great wars have come from one vord of + indiscretion. You know ze axiom of Bismarck—'In diplomacy it is + necessary for a diplomatist to be diplomatic.' Good-by, my love.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed as profoundly as if she were a reigning sovereign, blew an + affectionate kiss as he went through the door, and then descended the + stairs with a rapidity that argued either that his appointment was urgent + or that diplomacy shrank from a further test within this mansion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + For the last year or two the name of Rudolph von Blitzenberg had appeared + in the members' list of that most exclusive of institutions, the Regent's + Club, Pall Mall; and it was thither he drove on this fine afternoon of + July. At no resort in London were more famous personages to be found, + diplomatic and otherwise, and nothing would have been more natural than a + meeting between the Baron and a European celebrity beneath its roof; so + that if you had seen him bounding impetuously up the steps, and noted the + eagerness with which he inquired whether a gentleman had called for him, + you would have had considerable excuse for supposing his appointment to be + with a dignitary of the highest importance. + </p> + <p> + “Goot!” he cried on learning that a stranger was indeed waiting for him. + His face beamed with anticipatory joy. Aha! he was not to be disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “Vill he be jost the same?” he wondered. “Ah, if he is changed I shall + veep!” + </p> + <p> + He rushed into the smoking-room, and there, instead of any bald notability + or spectacled statesman, there advanced to meet him a merely private + English gentleman, tolerably young, undeniably good-looking, and graced + with the most debonair of smiles. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Bonker!” cried the Baron, crimsoning with joy. “Ach, how pleased + I am!” + </p> + <p> + “Baron!” replied his visitor gaily. “You cannot deceive me—that + waistcoat was made in Germany! Let me lead you to a respectable tailor!” + </p> + <p> + Yet, despite his bantering tone, it was easy to see that he took an equal + pleasure in the meeting. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” laughed the Baron, “vot a fonny zing to say! Droll as ever, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Five years less droll than when we first met,” said the late Bunker and + present Essington. “You meet a dullish dog, Baron—a sobered + reveller.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, no! Not surely? Do not disappoint me, dear Bonker!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron's plaintive note seemed to amuse his friend. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say you actually wish a boon companion? You, Baron, the + modern Talleyrand, the repository of three emperors' secrets? My dear + fellow, I nearly came in deep mourning.” + </p> + <p> + “Mourning! For vat?” + </p> + <p> + “For our lamented past: I supposed you would have the air of a + Nonconformist beadle.” + </p> + <p> + “My friend!” said the Baron eagerly, and yet with a lowering of his voice, + “I vould not like to engage a beadle mit jost ze same feelings as me. Come + here to zis corner and let us talk! Vaiter! whisky—soda—cigars—all + for two. Come, Bonker!” + </p> + <p> + Stretched in arm-chairs, in a quiet corner of the room, the two surveyed + one another with affectionate and humorous interest. For three years they + had not seen one another at all, and save once they had not met for five. + In five years a man may change his religion or lose his hair, inherit a + principality or part with a reputation, grow a beard or turn teetotaler. + Nothing so fundamental had happened to either of our friends. The Baron's + fullness of contour we have already noticed; in Mandell-Essington, EX + Bunker, was to be seen even less evidence of the march of time. But years, + like wheels upon a road, can hardly pass without leaving in their wake + some faint impress, however fair the weather, and perhaps his hair lay a + fraction of an inch higher up the temple, and in the corners of his eyes a + hint might even be discerned of those little wrinkles that register the + smiles and frowns. Otherwise he was the same distinguished-looking, + immaculately dressed, supremely self-possessed, and charming Francis + Bunker, whom the Baron's memory stored among its choicer possessions. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” demanded the Baron, “vat you are doing mit yourself, mine + Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + “Doing?” said Essington, lighting his cigar. “Well, my dear Baron, I am + endeavoring to live as I imagine a gentleman should.” + </p> + <p> + “And how is zat?” + </p> + <p> + “Riding a little, shooting a little, and occasionally telling the truth. + At other times I cock a wise eye at my modest patrimony, now and then I + deliver a lecture with magic-lantern slides; and when I come up to town I + sometimes watch cricket-matches. A devilish invigorating programme, isn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” laughed the Baron again; he had come prepared to laugh, and + carried out his intention religiously. “But you do not feel more old and + sober, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to, but no man can avoid his destiny. The natives of this + island are a serious people, or if they are frivolous, it is generally a + trifle vulgarly done. The diversions of the professedly gay-hooting over + pointless badinage and speculating whose turn it is to get divorced next—become + in time even more sobering than a scientific study with diagrams of how to + breed pheasants or play golf. If some one would teach us the simple art of + being light-hearted he would deserve to be placed along with Nelson on his + monument.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear vellow!” cried the Baron. “Do I hear zese kind of vords from + you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you starved a city-full of people, wouldn't you expect to hear the man + with the biggest appetite cry loudest?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron's face fell further and Essington laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Baron, hang it! You of all people should be delighted to see me a + fellow-member of respectable society. I take you to be the type of the + conventional aristocrat. Why, a fellow who's been travelling in Germany + said to me lately, when I asked about you—'Von Blitzenberg,' said + he, 'he's used as a simile for traditional dignity. His very dogs have to + sit up on their hind-legs when he inspects the kennels!'” + </p> + <p> + The Baron with a solemn face gulped down his whisky-and-soda. + </p> + <p> + “Zat is not true about my dogs,” he replied, “but I do confess my life is + vary dignified. So moch is expected of a Blitzenberg. Oh, ja, zere is moch + state and ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + “And you seem to thrive on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Vell, it does not destroy ze appetite,” the Baron admitted; “and it is my + duty so to live at Fogelschloss, and I alvays vish to do my duty. But, + ach, sometimes I do vant to kick ze trace!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you would want to if it were not for the Baroness?” + </p> + <p> + Bunker smiled whimsically; but his friend continued as simply serious as + ever. + </p> + <p> + “Alicia is ze most divine woman in ze world—I respect her, Bonker, I + love her, I gonsider her my better angel; but even in Heaven, I suppose, + peoples sometimes vould enjoy a stroll in Piccadeelly, or in some vay to + exercise ze legs and shout mit excitement. No doubt you zink it + unaccountable and strange—pairhaps ungrateful of me, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I feel as I should if I feared this cigar had gone out + and then found it alight after all.” + </p> + <p> + “You say so! Ah, zen I will have more boldness to confess my heart! + Bonker, ven I did land in England ze leetle thought zat vould rise vas—'Ze + land of freedom vunce again! Here shall I not have to be alvays ze Baron + von Blitzenberg, oldest noble in Bavaria, hereditary carpet-beater to ze + Court! I vill disguise and go mit old Bonker for a frolic!'” + </p> + <p> + “You touch my tenderest chord, Baron!” + </p> + <p> + “Goot, goot, my friend!” cried the Baron, warming to his work of + confession like a penitent whose absolution is promised in advance; “you + speak ze vords I love to hear! Of course I vould not be vicked, and I + vould not disgrace myself; but I do need a leetle exercise. Is it + possible?” + </p> + <p> + Essington sprang up and enthusiastically shook his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Baron, you come like a ray of sunshine through a London fog—like + a moulin rouge alighting in Carlton House Terrace! I thought my own leaves + were yellowing; I now perceive that was only an autumnal change. Spring + has returned, and I feel like a green bay tree!” + </p> + <p> + “Hoch, hoch!” roared the Baron, to the great surprise of two Cabinet + Ministers and a Bishop who were taking tea at the other side of the room. + “Vat shall ve do to show zere is no sick feeling?” + </p> + <p> + “H'm,” reflected Essington, with a comical look. “There's a lot of + scaffolding at the bottom of St. James's Street. Should we have it down + to-night? Or what do you say to a packet of dynamite in the two-penny + tube?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron sobered down a trifle. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, not so fast, not qvite so fast, dear Bonker. Remember I must not get + into troble at ze embassy.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, that's your pull. Foreign diplomatists are police-proof!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but my wife!” + </p> + <p> + “One stormy hour—then tears and forgiveness!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron lowered his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Her mozzer vill visit us next veek. I loff and respect Lady Grillyer; but + I should not like to have to ask her for forgiveness.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she has rather an uncompromising nose, so far as I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a kind nose to her friends, Bonker,” the Baron explained, “but + severe towards——” + </p> + <p> + “Myself, for instance,” laughed Essington. “Well, what do you suggest?” + </p> + <p> + “First, zat you dine mit me to-night. No, I vill take no refusal! Listen! + I am now meeting a distinguished person on important international + business—do you pairceive? Ha, ha, ha! To-night it vill be necessary + ve most dine togezzer. I have an engagement, but he can be put off for + soch a great person as the man I am now meeting at ze club! You vill gom?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have been delighted—only unluckily I have a man dining + with me. I tell you what! You come and join us! Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “If zat is ze only vay—yes, mit pleasure! Who is ze man?” + </p> + <p> + “Young Tulliwuddle. Do you remember going to a dance at Lord + Tulliwuddle's, some five and a half years ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Himmel! Ha, ha! Vell do I remember!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, our host of that evening died the other day, and this fellow is his + heir—a second or third cousin whose existence was so displeasing to + the old peer that he left him absolutely nothing that wasn't entailed, and + never said 'How-do-you-do?' to him in his life. In consequence, he may not + entertain you as much as I should like.” + </p> + <p> + “If he is your friend, I shall moch enjoy his society!” + </p> + <p> + “I am flattered, but hardly convinced. Tulliwuddle's intellect is scarcely + of the sparkling kind. However, come and try.” + </p> + <p> + The hour, the place, were arranged; a reminiscence or two exchanged; fresh + suggestions thrown out for the rejuvenation of a Bavarian magnate; another + baronial laugh shook the foundations of the club; and then, as the + afternoon was wearing on, the Baron hailed a cab and galloped for Belgrave + Square, and the late Mr. Bunker sauntered off along Pall Mall. + </p> + <p> + “Who can despair of human nature while the Baron von Blitzenberg adorns + the earth?” he reflected. “The discovery of champagne and the invention of + summer holidays were minor events compared with his descent from Olympus!” + </p> + <p> + He bought a button-hole at the street corner and cocked his hat, more + airily than ever. + </p> + <p> + “A volcanic eruption may inspire one to succor humanity, a wedding to + condole with it, and a general election to warn it of its folly; but the + Baron inspires one to amuse!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile that Heaven-sent nobleman, with a manner enshrouded in mystery, + was comforting his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, do not grieve, mine Alicia! No doubt ze Duke vill be disappointed not + to see us to-night, but I have telegraphed. Ja, I have said I had so + important an affair. Ach, do not veep! I did not know you wanted so moch + to dine mit ze old Duke. I sopposed you vould like a quiet evening at + home. But anyhow I have now telegraphed—and my leetle dinner mit my + friend—Ach, it is so important zat I most rosh and get dressed. + Cheer up, my loff! Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + He paused in answer to a tearful question. + </p> + <p> + “His name? Alas, I have promised not to say. You vould not have a European + war by my indiscretion?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + With mirrors reflecting a myriad lights, with the hum of voices, the + rustle of satin and lace, the hurrying steps of waiters, the bubbling of + laughter, of life, and of wine—all these on each side of them, and a + plate, a foaming glass, and a friend in front, the Baron and his host + smiled radiantly down upon less favored mortals. + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle is very late,” said Essington; “but he's a devilish casual + gentleman in all matters.” + </p> + <p> + “I am selfish enoff to hope he vill not gom at all!” exclaimed the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately he has had the doubtful taste to conceive a curiously high + opinion of myself. I am afraid he won't desert us. But I don't propose + that we shall suffer for his slackness. Bring the fish, waiter.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron was happy; and that is to say that his laughter re-echoed from + the shining mirrors, his tongue was loosed, his heart expanded, his glass + seemed ever empty. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, how to make zis joie de vivre to last beyond to-night!” he cried. + “May ze Teufel fly off mit of offeecial duties and receptions and—and + even mit my vife for a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron!” + </p> + <p> + “To Alicia!” cried the Baron hastily, draining his glass at the toast. + “But some fun first!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'I could not love thee, dear, so well, + Loved I not humor more!'” + </pre> + <p> + misquoted his host gaily. “Ah!” he added, “here comes Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + A young man, with his hands in his pockets and an eyeglass in his eye, + strolled up to their table. + </p> + <p> + “I'm beastly sorry for being so late,” said he; “but I'm hanged if I could + make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilled shirt-fronts. + It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “It suits you like a halo,” Essington assured him. “But let me introduce + you to my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Tulliwuddle bowed politely and took the empty chair; but it was + evident that his attention could not concentrate itself upon sublunary + matters till the shirt-front had been critically inspected and + appreciatively praised by his host. Indeed, it was quite clear that + Essington had not exaggerated his regard for himself. This admiration was + perhaps the most pleasing feature to be noted on a brief acquaintance with + his lordship. He was obviously intended neither for a strong man of action + nor a great man of thought. A tolerable appearance and considerable + amiability he might no doubt claim; but unfortunately the effort to retain + his eye-glass had apparently the effect of forcing his mouth chronically + open, which somewhat marred his appearance; while his natural good-humor + lapsed too frequently into the lamentations of an idle man that Providence + neglected him or that his creditors were too attentive. + </p> + <p> + It happens, however, that it is rather his circumstances than his person + which concern this history. And, briefly, these were something in this + sort. Born a poor relation and guided by no strong hand, he had gradually + seen himself, as Reverend uncles and Right Honorable cousins died off, + approach nearer and nearer to the ancient barony of Tulliwuddle (created + 1475 in the peerage of Scotland), until this year he had actually + succeeded to it. But after his first delight in this piece of good fortune + had subsided he began to realize in himself two notable deficiencies very + clearly, the lack of money, and more vaguely, the want of any preparation + for filling the shoes of a stately courtier and famous Highland chieftain. + He would often, and with considerable feeling, declare that any ordinary + peer he could easily have become, but that being old Tulliwuddle's heir, + by Gad! he didn't half like the job. + </p> + <p> + At present he was being tolerated or befriended by a small circle of + acquaintances, and rapidly becoming a familiar figure to three or four + tailors and half a dozen door-keepers at the stage entrances to divers + Metropolitan theatres. In the circle of acquaintances, the humorous + sagacity of Essington struck him as the most astonishing thing he had ever + known. He felt, in fact, much like a village youth watching his first + conjuring performance, and while the whim lasted (a period which Essington + put down as probably six weeks) he would have gone the length of paying a + bill or ordering a tie on his recommendation alone. + </p> + <p> + To-night the distinguished appearance and genial conversation of + Essington's friend impressed him more than ever with the advantages of + knowing so remarkable a personage. A second bottle succeeded the first, + and a third the second, the cordiality of the dinner growing all the + while, till at last his lordship had laid aside the last traces of his + national suspicion of even the most charming strangers. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Essington,” he said, “I had meant to tell you about a devilish + delicate dilemma I'm in. I want your advice.” + </p> + <p> + “You have it,” interrupted his host. “Give her a five-pound note, see that + she burns your letters, and introduce her to another fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “But—er—that wasn't the thing——” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him you'll pay in six months, and order another pair of trousers,” + said Essington, briskly as ever. + </p> + <p> + “But, I say, it wasn't that——” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Tulliwuddle, I never give racing tips.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang it!” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Tulliwuddle glanced at the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether the Baron would be interested——” + </p> + <p> + “Immensely, my goot Tollyvoddle! Supremely! hugely! I could be interested + to-night in a museum!” + </p> + <p> + “The Baron's past life makes him a peculiarly catholic judge of + indiscretions,” said Essington. + </p> + <p> + Thus reassured, Tulliwuddle began— + </p> + <p> + “You know I've an aunt who takes an interest in me—wants me to + collar an heiress and that sort of thing. Well, she has more or less + arranged a marriage for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Fill your glasses, gentlemen!” cried Essington. + </p> + <p> + “Hoch, hoch!” roared the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “But, I say, wait a minute! That's only the beginning. I don't know the + girl—and she doesn't know me.” + </p> + <p> + He said the last words in a peculiarly significant tone. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish me to introduce you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it! Be serious, Essington. The point is—will she marry me + if she does know me?” + </p> + <p> + “Himmel! Yes, certainly!” cried the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Who is she?” asked their host, more seriously. + </p> + <p> + “Her father is Darius P. Maddison, the American Silver King.” + </p> + <p> + The other two could not withhold an exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “He has only two children, a son and a daughter, and he wants to marry his + daughter to an English peer—or a Scotch, it's all the same. My aunt + knows 'em pretty well, and she has recommended me.” + </p> + <p> + “An excellent selection,” commented his host. + </p> + <p> + “But the trouble is, they want rather a high-class peer. Old Maddison is + deuced particular, and I believe the girl is even worse.” + </p> + <p> + “What are the qualifications desired?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's got to be ambitious, and a promising young man—and + elevated tastes—and all that kind of nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can be all zat if you try!” said the Baron eagerly. “Go to + Germany and get trained. I did vork twelve hours a day for ten years to be + vat I am.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm different,” replied the young peer gloomily. “Nobody ever trained me. + Old Tulliwuddle might have taken me up if he had liked, but he was + prejudiced against me. I can't become all those things now.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you do want to marry the lady?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Essington, I can't afford to lose such a chance! One doesn't get + a Miss Maddison every day. She's a deuced handsome girl too, they say.” + </p> + <p> + “By Gad, it's worth a trip across the Atlantic to try your luck,” said + Essington. “Get 'em to guarantee your expenses and you'll at least learn + to play poker and see Niagara for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “They aren't in America. They've got a salmon river in Scotland, and they + are there now. It's not far from my place, Hechnahoul.” + </p> + <p> + “She's practically in your arms, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Ach. Ze affair is easy!” + </p> + <p> + “Pipe up the clan and abduct her!” + </p> + <p> + “Approach her mit a kilt!” + </p> + <p> + But even those optimistic exhortations left the peer still melancholy. + </p> + <p> + “It sounds all very well,” said he, “but my clansmen, as you call 'em, + would expect such a devil of a lot from me too. Old Tulliwuddle spoiled + them for any ordinary mortal. He went about looking like an advertisement + for whisky, and called 'em all by their beastly Gaelic names. I have never + been in Scotland in my life, and I can't do that sort of thing. I'd merely + make a fool of myself. If I'd had to go to America it wouldn't have been + so bad.” + </p> + <p> + At this weak-kneed confession the Baron could hardly withhold an + exclamation of contempt, but Essington, with more sympathy, inquired— + </p> + <p> + “What do you propose to do, then?” + </p> + <p> + His lordship emptied his glass. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had your brains and your way of carrying things off, Essington!” + he said, with a sigh. “If you got a chance of showing yourself off to Miss + Maddison she'd jump at you!” + </p> + <p> + A gleam, inspired and humorous, leaped into Essington's eyes. The Baron, + whose glance happened at the moment to fall on him, bounded gleefully from + his seat. + </p> + <p> + “Hoch!” he cried, “it is mine old Bonker zat I see before me! Vat have you + in your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, my dear Baron; that lady over there thinks you are preparing to + attack her. Shall we smoke? Try these cigars.” + </p> + <p> + Throwing the Baron a shrewd glance to calm his somewhat alarming + exhilaration, their host turned with a graver air to his other guest. + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle,” said he, “I should like to help you.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to the deuce you could!” + </p> + <p> + Essington bent over the table confidentially. + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + The three heads bent forward towards a common centre—the Baron agog + with suppressed excitement, Tulliwuddle revived with curiosity and a gleam + of hope, Essington impressive and cool. + </p> + <p> + “I take it,” he began, “that if Mr. Darius P. Maddison and his coveted + daughter could see a little of Lord Tulliwuddle—meet him at lunch, + talk to him afterwards, for instance—and carry away a favorable + impression of the nobleman, there would not be much difficulty in + subsequently arranging a marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, none,” said Tulliwuddle. “They'd be only too keen, IF they approved + of me; but that's the rub, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “So far so good. Now it appears to me that our modest friend here somewhat + underrates his own powers of fascination.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, Tollyvoddle, you do indeed,” interjected the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “But since this idea is so firmly established in his mind that it may + actually prevent him from displaying himself to the greatest advantage, + and since he has been good enough to declare that he would regard with + complete confidence my own chances of success were I in his place, I would + propose—with all becoming diffidence—that <i>I</i> should + interview the lady and her parent instead of him.” + </p> + <p> + “A vary vise idea, Bonker,” observed the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Tulliwuddle. “Do you mean that you would go and crack me up, + and that sort of thing?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I mean that I should enjoy a temporary loan of your name and of your + residence, and assure them by a personal inspection that I have a + sufficient assortment of virtues for their requirements.” + </p> + <p> + “Splendid!” shouted the Baron. “Tollyvoddle, accept zis generous offer + before it is too late!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” gasped the diffident nobleman, “they would find out the next time + they saw me.” + </p> + <p> + “If the business is properly arranged, that would only be when you came + out of church with her. Look here—what fault have you to find with + this scheme? I produce the desired impression, and either propose at once + and am accepted——” + </p> + <p> + “H'm,” muttered Tulliwuddle doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Or I leave things in such good train that you can propose and get + accepted afterwards by letter.” + </p> + <p> + “That's better,” said Tulliwuddle. + </p> + <p> + “Then, by a little exercise of our wits, you find an excuse for hurrying + on the marriage—have it a private affair for family reasons, and so + on. You will be prevented by one excuse or another from meeting the lady + till the wedding-day. We shall choose a darkish church, you will have a + plaster on your face—and the deed is done!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a fault can I find,” commented the Baron sagely. “Essington, I + congratulate you.” + </p> + <p> + Between his complete confidence in Essington and the Baron's unqualified + commendation, Lord Tulliwuddle was carried away by the project. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Essington, what a good fellow you are!” he cried. “You really + think it will work?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say, Baron?” + </p> + <p> + “It cannot fail, I do solemnly assure you. Be thankful you have soch a + friend, Tollyvoddle!” + </p> + <p> + “You don't think anybody will suspect that you aren't really me?” + </p> + <p> + “Does any one up at Hechnahoul know you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “And no one there knows me. They will never suspect for an instant.” + </p> + <p> + His lordship assumed a look that would have been serious, almost + impressive, had he first removed his eye-glass. Evidently some weighty + consideration had occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + “You are an awfully clever chap, Essington,” he said, “and deuced superior + to most fellows, and—er—all that kind of thing. But—well—you + don't mind my saying it?” + </p> + <p> + “My morals? My appearance? Say anything you like, my dear fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “It's only this, that noblesse oblige, and that kind of thing, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I don't quite follow.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I mean that you aren't a nobleman, and do you think you could carry + things off like a—ah—like a Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + Essington remained entirely serious. + </p> + <p> + “I shall have at my elbow an adviser whose knowledge of the highest + society in Europe is, without exaggeration, unequalled. Your perfectly + natural doubts will be laid at rest when I tell you that I hope to be + accompanied by the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron could no longer contain himself. + </p> + <p> + “Himmel! Hurray! My dear friend, I vill go mit you to hell!” + </p> + <p> + “That's very good of you,” said Essington, “but you mistake my present + destination. I merely wish your company as far as the Castle of + Hechnahoul.” + </p> + <p> + “I gom mit so moch pleasure zat I cannot eggspress! Tollyvoddle, be no + longer afraid. I have helped to write a book on ze noble families of + Germany—zat is to say, I have contributed my portrait and some + anecdote. Our dear friend shall make no mistakes!” + </p> + <p> + By this guarantee Lord Tulliwuddle's last doubts were completely set at + rest. His spirits rose as he perceived how happily this easy avenue would + lead him out of all his troubles. He insisted on calling for wine and + pledging success to the adventure with the most resolute and confident + air, and nothing but a few details remained now to be settled. These were + chiefly with regard to the precise limits up to which the duplicate Lord + Tulliwuddle might advance his conquering arms. + </p> + <p> + “You won't formally propose, will you?” said the first edition of that + peer. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, if you prefer to negotiate the surrender yourself,” the + later impression assured him. + </p> + <p> + “And you mustn't—well—er——” + </p> + <p> + “I shall touch nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “A girl might get carried away by you,” said the original peer a trifle + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “The Baron is the most scrupulous of men. He will be by my side almost + continually. Baron, you will act as my judge, my censor, and my chaperon?” + </p> + <p> + “Tollyvoddle, I swear to you zat I shall use an eye like ze eagle. He + shall be so careful—ach, I shall see to it! Myself, I am a Bayard + mit ze ladies, and Bonker he shall not be less so!” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Baron, thanks awfully,” said his lordship. “Now my mind is quite + at rest!” + </p> + <p> + In the vestibule of the restaurant they bade good-night to the confiding + nobleman, and then turned to one another with an adventurer's smile. + </p> + <p> + “You are sure you can leave your diplomatic duties?” asked Essington. + </p> + <p> + “Zey vill be my diplomatic duties zat I go to do! Oh, I shall prepare a + leetle story—do not fear me.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron chuckled, and then burst forth + </p> + <p> + “Never was zere a man like you. Oh, cunning Mistair Bonker! And you vill + give me zomezing to do in ze adventure, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you that, Baron.” + </p> + <p> + As he gave this reassuring pledge, a peculiar smile stole over Mr. + Bunker's face—a smile that seemed to suggest even happier + possibilities than either of his distinguished friends contemplated. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + It is at all times pleasant to contemplate thorough workmanship and + sagacious foresight, particularly when these are allied with disinterested + purpose and genuine enthusiasm. For the next few days Mr. Bunker, + preparing to carry out to the best of his ability the delicate commission + with which he had been entrusted, presented this stimulating spectacle. + </p> + <p> + Absolutely no pains were left untaken. By the aid of some volumes lent him + by Tulliwuddle he learned, and digested in a pocketbook, as much + information as he thought necessary to acquire concerning the history of + the noble family he was temporarily about to enter; together with notes of + their slogan or war-cry (spelled phonetically to avoid the possibility of + a mistake), of their acreage, gross and net rentals, the names of their + land-agents, and many other matters equally to the point. It was further + to be observed that he spared no pains to imprint these particulars in the + Baron's Teutonic memory—whether to support his own in case of need, + or for some more secret purpose, it were impossible to fathom. Disguised + as unconspicuous and harmless persons, they would meet in many quiet + haunts whose unsuspected excellences they could guarantee from their old + experience, and there mature their philanthropic plan. + </p> + <p> + Not only had its talented originator to impress the Tulliwuddle annals and + statistics into his ally's eager mind, but he had to exercise the nicest + tact and discernment lest the Baron's excess of zeal should trip their + enterprise at the very outset. + </p> + <p> + “To-day I have told Alicia zat my visit to Russia vill probably be + vollowed by a visit to ze Emperor of China,” the Baron would recount with + vast pride in his inventive powers. “And I have dropped a leetle hint zat + for an envoy to be imprisoned in China is not to be surprised. Zat vill + prepare her in case I am avay longer zan ve expect.” + </p> + <p> + “And how did she take that intimation?” asked Essington, with a less + congratulatory air than he had expected. + </p> + <p> + “I did leave her in tears.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron, fly to her to tell her you are not going to China! She + will get so devilish alarmed if you are gone a week that she'll go + straight to the embassy and make inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, and added in an impressive voice— + </p> + <p> + “Never lie for lying's sake, Blitzenberg. Besides, how do you propose to + forge a Chinese post-mark?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron had laid the foundations of his Russian trip on a sound basis by + requesting a friend of his in that country to post to the Baroness the + bi-weekly budgets of Muscovite gossip which he intended to compose at + Hechnahoul. This, it seemed to him, would be a simple feat, particularly + with his friend Bunker to assist; but he had to confess that the provision + of Chinese news would certainly be more difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, vell, I shall contradict China,” he agreed. + </p> + <p> + It will be readily believed that what with getting up his brief, pruning + the legends with which the Baron proposed to satisfy his wife and his + ambassador, and purchasing an outfit suitable to the roles of peer and + chieftain, this indefatigable gentleman passed three or four extremely + busy days. + </p> + <p> + “Ve most start before my dear mozzer-in-law does gom!” the Baron more than + once impressed upon him, so that there was no moment to be wasted. + </p> + <p> + Two days before their departure Mr. Bunker greeted his ally with a + peculiarly humorous smile. + </p> + <p> + “The pleasures of our visit to Hechnahoul are to be considerably + augmented,” said he. “Tulliwuddle has only just made the discovery that + his ancestral castle is let; but his tenant, in the most handsome spirit, + invites us to be his guests so long as we are in Scotland. A very + hospitable letter, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + He handed him a large envelope with a more than proportionately large + crest upon it, and drawing from this a sheet of note-paper headed by a + second crest, the Baron read this epistle: + </p> + <p> + “MY LORD,—Learning that you propose visiting your Scottish estates, + and Mr. M'Fadyen, your factor, informing me no lodge is at present + available for your reception, it will give Mrs. Gallosh and myself great + pleasure, and we will esteem it a distinguished honor, if you and your + friend will be our guests at Hechnahoul Castle during the duration of your + visit. Should you do us the honor of accepting, I shall send my steam + launch to meet you at Torrydhulish pier and convey you across the loch, if + you will be kind enough to advise me which train you are coming by. + </p> + <p> + “In conclusion, Mrs. Gallosh and myself beg to assure you that although + you find strangers in your ancestral halls, you will receive both from + your tenantry and ourselves a very hearty welcome to your native land. + Believe me, your obedient servant, + </p> + <p> + “DUNCAN JNO. GALLOSH.” + </p> + <p> + “Zat is goot news!” cried the Baron. “Ve shall have company—perhaps + ladies! Ach, Bonker, I have ze soft spot in mine heart: I am so constant + as ze needle to ze pole; but I do like sometimes to talk mit voman!” + </p> + <p> + “With Mrs. Gallosh, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Bonker, zere may be a Miss Gallosh.” + </p> + <p> + “If you consulted the Baroness,” said Bunker, smiling, “I suspect she + would prefer you to be imprisoned in China.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron laughed, and curled his martial mustache with a dangerous air. + </p> + <p> + “Who is zis Gallosh?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Scottish, I judge from his name; commercial, from his literary style; + elevated by his own exertions, from the size of his crest; and wealthy, + from the fact that he rents Hechnahoul Castle. His mention of Mrs. Gallosh + points to the fact that he is either married or would have us think so; + and I should be inclined to conclude that he has probably begot a family.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” said the Baron. “Ve vill gom and see, eh?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + A carefully clothed young man, with an eyeglass and a wavering gait, + walked slowly out of Euston Station. He had just seen the Scottish express + depart, and this event seemed to have filled him with dubious reflections. + In fact, at the very last moment Lord Tulliwuddle's confidence in his two + friends had been a trifling degree disturbed. It occurred to him as he + lingered by the door of their reserved first-class compartment that they + had a little too much the air of gentlemen departing on their own pleasure + rather than on his business. No sooner did he drop a fretful hint of this + opinion than their affectionate protestations had quickly revived his + spirit; but now that they were no longer with him to counsel and + encourage, it once more drooped. + </p> + <p> + “Confound it!” he thought, “I hadn't bargained on having to keep out of + people's way till they came back. If Essington had mentioned that sooner, + I don't know that I'd have been so keen about the notion. Hang it! I'll + have to chuck the Morrells' dance. And I can't go with the Greys to + Ranelagh. I can't even dine with my own aunt on Sunday. Oh, the devil!” + </p> + <p> + The perturbed young peer waved his umbrella and climbed into a hansom. + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyhow, I can still go on seeing Connie. That's some consolation,” + he told himself; and without stopping to consider what would be the + thoughts of his two obliging friends had they known he was seeking + consolation in the society of one lady while they were arranging his + nuptials with another, the baptismal Tulliwuddle drove back to the + civilization of St. James's. + </p> + <p> + Within the reserved compartment was no foreboding, no faint-hearted paling + of the cheek. As the train clattered, hummed, and presently thundered on + its way, the two laughed cheerfully towards one another, delighted beyond + measure with the prosperous beginning of their enterprise. The Baron could + not sufficiently express his gratitude and admiration for the promptitude + with which his friend had purveyed so promising an adventure. + </p> + <p> + “Ve vill have fon, my Bonker. Ach! ve vill,” he exclaimed for the third or + fourth time within a dozen miles from Euston. + </p> + <p> + His Bunker assumed an air half affectionate, half apologetic. + </p> + <p> + “I only regret that I should have the lion's share of the adventure, my + dear Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Baron, with a symptom of a sigh, “I do envy you indeed. + Yet I should not say zat——” Bunker swiftly interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “You would like to play a worthier part than merely his lordship's + friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Ach! if I could.” + </p> + <p> + Bunker smiled benignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Baron, you cannot suppose that I would really do Tulliwuddle such + injustice as to attempt, in my own feeble manner, to impersonate him?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron stared. + </p> + <p> + “Vat mean you?” + </p> + <p> + “YOU shall be the lion, <i>I</i> the humble necessary jackal. As our + friend so aptly quoted, noblesse oblige. Of course, there can be no doubt + about it. You, Baron, must play the part of peer, I of friend.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “Quite simple, my dear fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you don't mean so?” + </p> + <p> + “I do indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot I shall not do it so vell as you.” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred times better.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot vy did you not say so before?” + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle might not have agreed with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot vould he like it now?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not what he likes that we should consider, it's what is good for + his interests.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot if I should fail?” + </p> + <p> + “He will be no worse off than before. Left to himself, he certainly won't + marry the lady. You give him his only chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot more zan you vould, really and truthfully?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron, you are admitted by all to be an ideal German nobleman. + Therefore you will certainly make an ideal British peer. You have the true + Grand-Seigneur air. No one would mistake you for anything but a great + aristocrat, if they merely saw you in bathing pants; whereas I have + something a little different about my manner. I'm not so impressive—not + so hall-marked, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + His friend's omniscient air and candidly eloquent tone impressed the Baron + considerably. His ingrained conviction of his own importance accorded + admirably with these arguments. His thirst for “life” craved this lion's + share. His sanguine spirit leaped at the appeal. Yet his well-regulated + conscience could not but state one or two patent objections. + </p> + <p> + “Bot I have not read so moch of the Tollyvoddles as you. I do not know ze + strings so vell.” + </p> + <p> + “I have told you nearly everything I know. You will find the rest here.” + </p> + <p> + Essington handed him the note-book containing his succinct digest. In + intelligent anticipation of this contingency it was written in his + clearest handwriting. + </p> + <p> + “You should have been a German,” said the Baron admiringly. + </p> + <p> + He glanced with sparkling eyes at the note-book, and then with a + distinctly greater effort the Teutonic conscience advanced another + objection. + </p> + <p> + “Bot you have bought ze kilt, ze Highland hat, ze brogue shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “I had them made to your measurements.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron impetuously embraced his thoughtful friend. Then again his smile + died away. + </p> + <p> + “Bot, Bonker, my voice! Zey tell me I haf nozing zat you vould call qvite + an accent; bot a foreigner—one does regognize him, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall explain that in a sentence. The romantic tincture of—well, + not quite accent, is a pleasant little piece of affectation adopted by the + young bloods about the Court in compliment to the German connections of + the Royal family.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron raised no more objections. + </p> + <p> + “Bonker, I agree! Tollyvoddle I shall be, by Jove and all!” + </p> + <p> + He beamed his satisfaction, and then in an eager voice asked— + </p> + <p> + “You haf not ze kilt in zat hat-box?” + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, however, the kilt was in the van. + </p> + <p> + Now the journey, propitiously begun, became more exhilarating, more + exciting with each mile flung by. The Baron, egged on by his friend's high + spirits and his own imagination to anticipate pleasure upon pleasure, + watched with rapture the summer landscape whiz past the windows. Through + the flat midlands of England they sped; field after field, hedgerow after + hedgerow, trees by the dozen, by the hundred, by the thousand, spinning by + in one continuous green vista. Red brick towns, sluggish rivers, thatched + villages and ancient churches dark with yews, the shining web of + junctions, and a whisking glimpse of wayside stations leaped towards them, + past them, and leagues away behind. But swiftly as they sped, it was all + too slowly for the fresh-created Lord Tulliwuddle. + </p> + <p> + “Are we not nearly to Scotland yet?” he inquired some fifty times. + </p> + <p> + “'My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the dears!'” hummed the abdicated + nobleman, whose hilarity had actually increased (if that were possible) + since his descent into the herd again. + </p> + <p> + All the travellers' familiar landmarks were hailed by the gleeful + diplomatist with encouraging comments. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, look! Beauteeful view! How quickly it is gone! Hurray! Ve must be + nearly to Scotland.” + </p> + <p> + A panegyric on the rough sky-line of the north country fells was + interrupted by the entrance of the dining-car attendant. Learning that + they would dine, he politely inquired in what names he should engage their + seats. Then, for an instant, a horrible confusion nearly overcame the + Baron. He—a von Blitzenberg—to give a false name! His color + rose, he stammered, and only in the nick of time caught his companion's + eye. + </p> + <p> + “Ze Lord Tollyvoddle,” he announced, with an effort as heroic as any of + his ancestors' most warlike enterprises. + </p> + <p> + Too impressed to inquire how this remarkable title should be spelled, the + man turned to the other distinguished-looking passenger. + </p> + <p> + “Bunker,” said that gentleman, with smiling assurance. + </p> + <p> + The man went out. + </p> + <p> + “Now are ve named!” cried the Baron, his courage rising the higher for the + shock it had sustained. “And you vunce more vill be Bonker? Goot!” + </p> + <p> + “That satisfies you?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, I have a splendid idea! Do you know I did disgover zere + used to be a nobleman in Austria really called Count Bonker? He vas a + famous man; you need not be ashamed to take his name. Vy should not you be + Count Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + “You prefer to travel in titled company? Well, be hanged—why not! + When one comes to think of it, it seems a pity that my sins should always + be attributed to the middle classes.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly this history has now the honorable task of chronicling the + exploits of no fewer than two noblemen. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + Late that evening they reached a city which the home-coming chieftain in + an outburst of Celtic fervor dubbed “mine own bonny Edinburg!” and there + they repaired for the night to a hotel. Once more the Baron (we may still + style him so since the peerage of Tulliwuddle was of that standing also) + showed a certain diffidence when it came to answering to his new title in + public; but in the seclusion of their private sitting-room he was careful + to assure his friend that this did not arise from any lack of nerve or + qualms zof conscience, but merely through a species of headache—the + result of railway travelling. + </p> + <p> + “Do not fear for me,” he declared as he stirred the sugar in his glass, “I + have ze heart of a lion.” + </p> + <p> + The liquid he was sipping being nothing less potent than a brew of whisky + punch, which he had ordered (or rather requested Bunker to order) as the + most romantically national compound he could think of, produced, indeed, a + fervor of foolhardiness. He insisted upon opening the door wide, and + getting Bunker to address him as “Tollyvoddle,” in a strident voice, “so + zat zey all may hear,” and then answering in a firm “Yes, Count Bonker, + vat vould you say to me?” + </p> + <p> + It is true that he instantly closed the door again, and even bolted it, + but his display seemed to make a vast impression upon himself. + </p> + <p> + “Many men vould not dare so to go mit anozzer name,” he announced; “bot I + have my nerves onder a good gontrol.” + </p> + <p> + “You astonish me,” said the Count. + </p> + <p> + “I do even surprise myself,” admitted the Baron. + </p> + <p> + In truth the ordeal of carelessly carrying off an alias is said by those + who have undergone it (and the report is confirmed by an experienced class + of public officials) to require a species of hardihood which, fortunately + for society, is somewhat rare. The most daring Smith will sometimes + stammer when it comes to merely answering “Yes” to a cry of “Brown!” and + Count Bunker, whose knowledge of human nature was profound and remarkably + accurate, was careful to fortify his friend by example and praise, till by + the time they went to bed the Baron could scarcely be withheld from + seeking out the manager and airing his assurance upon him. Or, at least, + he declared he would have done this had he been sure that the manager was + not already in bed himself. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately at this juncture the Count committed one of those + indiscretions to which a gay spirit is always prone, but which, to do him + justice, seldom sullied his own record as a successful adventurer. At an + hour considerably past midnight, hearing an excited summons from the + Baron's bedroom, he laid down his toothbrush and hastened across the + passage, to find the new peer in a crimson dressing-gown of quilted silk + gazing enthusiastically at a lithograph that hung upon the wall. + </p> + <p> + “See!” he cried gleefully, “here is my own ancestor. Bonker, I feel I am + Tollyvoddle indeed.” + </p> + <p> + The print which had inspired this enthusiasm depicted a historical but + treasonable Lord Tulliwuddle preparing to have his head removed. + </p> + <p> + Giving it a droll look, the Count observed— + </p> + <p> + “Well, if it inspires you, my dear Baron, that's all right. The omen would + have struck me differently.” + </p> + <p> + “Ze omen!” murmured the Baron with a start. + </p> + <p> + It required all Bunker's tact to revive his ally's damped enthusiasm, and + even at breakfast next morning he referred in a gloomy voice to various + premonitions recorded in the history of his family, and the horrible + consequences of disregarding them. + </p> + <p> + But by the time they had started upon their journey north, his spirits + rose a trifle; and when at length all lowland landscapes were left far + behind them, and they had come into a province of peat streams and granite + pinnacles, with the gloom of pines and the freshness of the birch blended + like a May and December marriage, all appearance, at least, of disquietude + had passed away. + </p> + <p> + Yet the Count kept an anxious eye upon him. He was becoming decidedly + restless. At one moment he would rave about the glorious scenery; the + next, plunge into a brown study of the Tulliwuddle rent-roll; and then in + an instant start humming an air and smoking so fast that both their cases + were empty while they were yet half an hour from Torrydhulish Station. Now + the Baron took to biting his nails, looking at his watch, and answering + questions at random—a very different spectacle from the enthusiastic + traveller of yesterday. + </p> + <p> + “Only ten minutes more,” observed Bunker in his most cheering manner. + </p> + <p> + The Baron made no reply. + </p> + <p> + They were now running along the brink of a glimmering loch, the piled + mountains on the farther shore perfectly mirrored; a tern or two lazily + fishing; a delicate summer sky smiling above. All at once Count Bunker + started— + </p> + <p> + “That must be Hechnahoul!” said he. + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked and beheld, upon an eminence across the loch, the towers + and turrets of an imposing mansion overtopping a green grove. + </p> + <p> + “And here is the station,” added the Count. + </p> + <p> + The Baron's face assumed a piteous expression. + </p> + <p> + “Bonker,” he stammered, “I—I am afraid! You be ze Tollyvoddle—I + cannot do him!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I cannot!” + </p> + <p> + “Be brave—for the honor of the fatherland. Play the bold + Blitzenberg!” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, ja; but not bold Tollyvoddle. Zat picture—you vere right—it + vas omen!” + </p> + <p> + Never did the genius of Bunker rise more audaciously to an occasion. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron,” said he, assuming on the instant a confidence-inspiring + smile, “that print was a hoax; it wasn't old Tulliwuddle at all. I faked + it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “So?” gasped the Baron. “You assure me truly?” + </p> + <p> + Muttering (the historian sincerely hopes) a petition for forgiveness, + Bunker firmly answered— + </p> + <p> + “I do assure you!” + </p> + <p> + The train had stopped, and as they were the only first-class passengers on + board, a peculiarly magnificent footman already had his hand upon the + door. Before turning the handle, he touched his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle?” he respectfully inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Ja—zat is, yes, I am,” replied the Baron. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + From the platform down to the pier was only some fifty yards, and before + them the travellers perceived an exceedingly smart steam-launch, and a + stout middle-aged gentleman, in a blue serge suit and yachting cap, + advancing from it to greet them. They had only time to observe that he had + a sanguine complexion, iron-gray whiskers, and a wide-open eye, before he + raised the cap and, in a decidedly North British accent, thus addressed + them— + </p> + <p> + “My lord—ahem!—your lordship, I should say—I presume + I've the pleasure of seeing Lord Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + The Count gently pushed his more distinguished friend in front. With an + embarrassment equal to their host's, his lordship bowed and gave his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I am ze Tollyvoddle—vary pleased—Mistair Gosh, I soppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Gallosh, my lord. Very honored to welcome you.” + </p> + <p> + In the round eyes of Mr. Gallosh, Count Bunker perceived an unmistakable + stare of astonishment at the sound of his lordship's accented voice. The + Baron, on his part, was evidently still suffering from his attack of stage + fright; but again the Count's gifts smoothed the creases from the + situation. + </p> + <p> + “You have not introduced me to our host, Tulliwuddle,” he said, with a + gay, infectious confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, so! Zis is my friend Count Bunker—gom all ze vay from Austria,” + responded the Baron, with no glimmer of his customary aplomb. + </p> + <p> + Making a mental resolution to warn his ally never to say one word more + about his fictitious past than was wrung by cross-examination, the + distinguished-looking Austrian shook his host's hand warmly. + </p> + <p> + “From Austria via London,” he explained in his pleasantest manner. “I + object altogether to be considered a foreigner, Mr. Gallosh; and, in fact, + I often tell Tulliwuddle that people will think me more English than + himself. The German fashions so much in vogue at Court are transforming + the very speech of your nobility. Don't you sometimes notice it?” + </p> + <p> + Thus directly appealed to, Mr. Gallosh became manifestly perplexed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, you're right in a way,” he pronounced cautiously. “I + suppose they do that. But will ye not take a seat? This is my launch. Hi! + Robert, give his lordship a hand on board!” + </p> + <p> + Two mariners and a second tall footman assisted the guests to embark, and + presently they were cutting the waters of the loch at a merry pace. + </p> + <p> + In the prow, like youth, the Baron insisted upon sitting with folded arms + and a gloomy aspect; and as his nerve was so patently disturbed, the Count + decidedly approved of an arrangement which left his host and himself alone + together in the stern. In his present state of mind the Baron was capable + of any indiscretion were he compelled to talk; while, silent and brooding + in isolated majesty, he looked to perfection the part of returning exile. + So, evidently, thought Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “His lordship is looking verra well,” he confided to the Count in a + respectfully lowered voice. + </p> + <p> + “The improvement has been remarkable ever since his foot touched his + native heath.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't say so,” said Mr. Gallosh, with even greater interest. “Was he + delicate before?” + </p> + <p> + “A London life, Mr. Gallosh.” + </p> + <p> + “True—true, he'll have been busy seeing his friends; it'll have been + verra wearing.” + </p> + <p> + “The anxiety, the business of being invested, and so on, has upset him a + trifle. You must put down any little—well, peculiarity to that, Mr. + Gallosh.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand—aye, umh'm, quite so. He'll like to be left to + himself, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends on his condition,” said the Count diplomatically. + </p> + <p> + “It's a great responsibility for a young man; yon's a big property to look + after,” observed Mr. Gallosh in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “You have touched the spot!” said the Count warmly. “That is, in fact, the + chief cause of Tulliwuddle's curious moodiness ever since he succeeded to + the title. He feels his responsibilities a little too acutely.” + </p> + <p> + Again Mr. Gallosh ruminated, while his guest from the corner of his eye + surveyed him shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + “My forecast was wonderfully accurate,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + The silence was first broken by Mr. Gallosh. As if thinking aloud, he + remarked— + </p> + <p> + “I was awful surprised to hear him speak! It's the Court fashion, you + say?” + </p> + <p> + “Partly that; partly a prolonged residence on the Continent in his youth. + He acquired his accent then; he has retained it for fashion's sake,” + explained the Count, who thought it as well to bolster up the weakest part + of his case a little more securely. + </p> + <p> + With this prudent purpose, he added, with a flattering air of taking his + host into his aristocratic confidence— + </p> + <p> + “You will perhaps be good enough to explain this to the friends and + dependants Lord Tulliwuddle is about to meet? A breath of unsympathetic + criticism would grieve him greatly if it came to his ears.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite, quite,” said Mr. Gallosh eagerly. “I'll make it all right. I + understand the sentiment pairfectly. It's verra natural—verra + natural indeed.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the Baron started from his reverie with an affrighted air. + </p> + <p> + “Vat is zat strange sound!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + The others listened. + </p> + <p> + “That's just the pipes, my lord,” said Mr. Gallosh. “They're tuning up to + welcome you.” + </p> + <p> + His lordship stared at the shore ahead of them. + </p> + <p> + “Zere are many peoples on ze coast!” he cried. “Vat makes it for?” + </p> + <p> + “They've come to receive you,” his host explained. “It's just a little + spontaneous demonstration, my lord.” + </p> + <p> + His lordship's composure in no way increased. + </p> + <p> + “It was Mrs. Gallosh organized a wee bit entertainment on his lordship's + landing,” their host explained confidentially to the Count. “It's just + informal, ye understand. She's been instructing some of the tenants—and + ma own girls will be there—but, oh, it's nothing to speak of. If he + says a few words in reply, that'll be all they'll be expecting.” + </p> + <p> + The strains of “Tulliwuddle wha hae” grew ever louder and, to an untrained + ear, more terrific. In a moment they were mingled with a clapping of hands + and a Highland cheer, the launch glided alongside the pier, and, supported + on his faithful friend's arm, the panic-stricken Tulliwuddle staggered + ashore. Before his dazed eyes there seemed to be arrayed the vastest and + most barbaric concourse his worst nightmare had ever imagined. Six pipers + played within ten paces of him, each of them arrayed in the full panoply + of the clan; at least a dozen dogs yelped their exultation; and from the + surrounding throng two ancient men in tartan and four visions in snowy + white stepped forth to greet the distinguished visitors. + </p> + <p> + The first hitch in the proceedings occurred at this point. According to + the unofficial but carefully considered programme, the pipers ought to + have ceased their melody; but, whether inspired by ecstatic loyalty or + because the Tulliwuddle pibroch took longer to perform than had been + anticipated, they continued to skirl with such vigor that expostulations + passed entirely unheard. Under the circumstances there was nothing for it + but shouting, and in a stentorian yell Mr. Gallosh introduced his wife and + three fair daughters. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Mrs. Gallosh, a broad-beamed matron whose complexion contrasted + pleasantly with her costume, delivered the following oration— + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle, in the name of the women of Hechnahoul—I may say + in the name of the women of all the Highlands—oor ain Heelands, my + lord” (this with the most insinuating smile)—“I bid you welcome to + your ancestral estates. Remembering the conquests your ancestors used to + make both in war and in a gentler sphere” (Mrs. Gallosh looked archness + itself), “we ladies, I suppose, should regard your home-coming with some + misgivings; but, my lord, every bonny Prince Charlie has his bonny Flora + Macdonald, and in this land of mountain, mist, and flood, where 'Dark Ben + More frowns o'er the wave,' and where 'Ilka lassie has her laddie,' you + will find a thousand romantic maidens ready to welcome you as Ellen + welcomed Fitz-James! For centuries your heroic race has adorned the halls + and trod the heather of Hechnahoul, and for centuries more we hope to see + the offspring of your lordship and some winsome Celtic maid rule these + cataracts and glens!” + </p> + <p> + At this point the exertion of shouting down six bagpipes in active + eruption caused a temporary cessation of the lady's eloquence, and the + pause was filled by the cheers of the crowd led by the “Hip-hip-hip!” of + Count Bunker, and by the broken and fortunately inaudible protests of the + embarrassed father of future Tulliwuddles. In a moment Mrs. Gallosh had + resumed— + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle, though I myself am only a stranger to your clan, your + Highland heart will feel reassured when I mention that I belong through my + grandmother to the kindred clan of the Mackays!” (“Hear, hear!” from two + or three ladies and gentlemen, evidently guests of the Gallosh.) “We are + but visitors at Hechnahoul, yet we assure you that no more devoted hearts + beat in all Caledonia! Lord Tulliwuddle, we welcome you!” + </p> + <p> + “Put your hand on your heart and bow,” whispered Bunker. “Keep on bowing + and say nothing!” + </p> + <p> + Mechanically the bewildered Baron obeyed, and for a few moments presented + a spectacle not unlike royalty in procession. + </p> + <p> + But as some reply from him had evidently been expected at this point, and + the pipers had even ceased playing lest any word of their chief's should + be lost, a pause ensued which might have grown embarrassing had not the + Count promptly stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he said, indicating two other snow-white figures who held + gigantic bouquets, “that a pleasant part of the ceremony still remains + before us.” + </p> + <p> + With a grateful glance at this discerning guest, Mrs. Gallosh thereupon + led forward her two youngest daughters (aged fifteen and thirteen), who, + with an air so delightfully coy that it fell like a ray of sunshine on the + poor Baron's heart, presented him with their flowery symbols of + Hechnahoul's obeisance to its lord. + </p> + <p> + His consternation returned with the advance of the two ancient clansmen + who, after a guttural panegyric in Gaelic, offered him further symbols—a + claymore and target, very formidable to behold. All these gifts having + been adroitly transferred to the arms of the footmen by the ubiquitous + Count, the Baron's emotions swiftly passed through another phase when the + eldest Miss Gallosh, aged twenty, with burning eyes and the most + distracting tresses, dropped him a sweeping courtesy and offered a final + contribution—a fiery cross, carved and painted by her own fair + hands. + </p> + <p> + A fresh round of applause followed this, and then a sudden silence fell + upon the assembly. All eyes were turned upon the chieftain: not even a dog + barked: it was the moment of a lifetime. + </p> + <p> + “Can you manage a speech, old man?” whispered Bunker. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, no, no, no! Let me escape. Oh, let me fly!” + </p> + <p> + “Bury your face in your hands and lean on my shoulder,” prompted the + Count. + </p> + <p> + This stage direction being obeyed, the most effective tableau conceivable + was presented, and the climax was reached when the Count, after a brief + dumb-show intended to indicate how vain were Lord Tulliwuddle's efforts to + master his emotion, spoke these words in the most thrilling accents he + could muster: + </p> + <p> + “Fair ladies and brave men of Hechnahoul! Your chief, your friend, your + father requests me to express to you the sentiments which his over-wrought + emotions prevent him from uttering himself. On his behalf I tender to his + kind and courteous friends, Mr., Mrs., and the fair maids Gallosh, the + thanks of a long-absent exile returned to his native land for the welcome + they have given him! To his devoted clan he not only gives his thanks, but + his promise that all rents shall be reduced by one half—so long as + he dwells among them!” (Tumultuous applause, disturbed only by a violent + ejaculation from a large man in knickerbockers whom Bunker justly judged + to be the factor.) + </p> + <p> + “With his last breath he shall perpetually thunder: Ahasheen—comara—mohr!” + </p> + <p> + The Tulliwuddle slogan, pronounced with the most conscientious accuracy of + which a Sassenach was capable, proved as effective a curtain as he had + anticipated; and amid a perfect babel of cheering and bagpiping the + chieftain was led to his host's carriage. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + “Well, the worst of it is over,” said Bunker cheerfully. + </h3> + <p> + The Baron groaned. “Ze vorst is only jost beginning to gommence.” + </p> + <p> + They were sitting over a crackling fire of logs in the sitting-room of the + suite which their host had reserved for his honored visitors. How many + heirlooms and dusky portraits the romantic thoughtfulness of the ladies + had managed to crowd into this apartment for the occasion were hard to + compute; enough, certainly, one would think, to inspire the most + sluggish-blooded Tulliwuddle with a martial exultation. Instead, the + chieftain groaned again. + </p> + <p> + “Tell zem I am ill. I cannot gom to dinner. To-morrow I shall take ze + train back to London. Himmel! Vy vas I fool enof to act soch dishonorable + lies! I deceive all these kind peoples!” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't that which worries me,” said Bunker imperturbably. “I am only + afraid that if you display this spirit you won't deceive them.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not vish to,” said the Baron sulkily. + </p> + <p> + It required half an hour of the Count's most artful blandishments to + persuade him that duty, honor, and prudence all summoned him to the feast. + This being accomplished, he next endeavored to convince him that he would + feel more comfortable in the airy freedom of the Tulliwuddle tartan. But + here the Baron was obdurate. Now that the kilt lay ready to his hand he + could not be persuaded even to look at it. In gloomy silence he donned his + conventional evening dress and announced, last thing before they left + their room— + </p> + <p> + “Bonker, say no more! To-morrow morning I depart!” + </p> + <p> + Their hostess had explained that a merely informal dinner awaited them, + since his lordship (she observed) would no doubt prefer a quiet evening + after his long journey. But Mrs. Gallosh was one of those good ladies who + are fond of asking their friends to take “pot luck,” and then providing + them with fourteen courses; or suggesting a “quiet little evening + together,” when they have previously removed the drawing-room carpet. It + is an affectation of modesty apt to disconcert the retiring guest who + takes them at their word. In the drawing-room of Mrs. Gallosh the startled + Baron found assembled—firstly, the Gallosh family, consisting of all + those whose acquaintance we have already made, and in addition two + stalwart school-boy sons; secondly, their house-party, who comprised a Mr. + and Mrs. Rentoul, from the same metropolis of commerce as Mr. Gallosh, and + a hatchet-faced young man with glasses, answering to the name of Mr. + Cromarty-Gow; and, finally, one or two neighbors. These last included Mr. + M'Fadyen, the large factor; the Established Church, U.F., Wee Free, + Episcopalian, and Original Secession ministers, all of whom, together with + their kirks, flourished within a four-mile radius of the Castle; the wives + to three of the above; three young men and their tutor, being some portion + of a reading-party in the village; and Mrs. Cameron-Campbell and her five + daughters, from a neighboring dower-house upon the loch. + </p> + <p> + It was fortunate that all these people were prepared to be impressed with + Lord Tulliwuddle, whatever he should say or do; and further, that the + unique position of such a famous hereditary magnate even led them to + anticipate some marked deviation from the ordinary canons of conduct. + Otherwise, the gloomy brows; the stare, apparently haughty, in reality + alarmed; the strange accent and the brief responses of the chief guest, + might have caused an unfavorable opinion of his character. + </p> + <p> + As it was, his aloofness, however natural, would probably have proved + depressing had it not been for the gay charm and agreeable condescension + of the other nobleman. Seldom had more rested upon that adventurer's + shoulders, and never had he acquitted himself with greater credit. It was + with considerable secret concern that he found himself placed at the + opposite end of the table from his friend, but his tongue rattled as gaily + and his smiles came as readily as ever. With Mrs. Cameron-Campbell on one + side, and a minister's lady upon the other, his host two places distant, + and a considerable audience of silent eaters within earshot, he + successfully managed to divert the attention of quite half the table from + the chieftain's moody humor. + </p> + <p> + “I always feel at home with a Scotsman,” he discoursed genially. “His + imagination is so quick, his intellect so clear, his honesty so + remarkable, and” (with an irresistible glance at the minister's lady) “his + wife so charming.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” laughed Mr. Gallosh, who was mellowing rapidly under the + influence of his own champagne. “I'm verra glad to see you know good folks + when you meet them. What do you think now of the English?” + </p> + <p> + Having previously assured himself that his audience was neat Scotch, the + polished Austrian unblushingly replied— + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman, I have observed, has a slightly slower imagination, a + denser intelligence, and is less conspicuous for perfect honesty. His + womankind also have less of that nameless grace and ethereal beauty which + distinguish their Scottish sisters.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that a more popular visitor never was seen than this + discriminating foreigner, and if his ambitions had not risen above a + merely personal triumph, he would have been in the highest state of + satisfaction. But with a disinterested eye he every now and then sought + the farther end of the table, where, between his hostess and her charming + eldest daughter, and facing his factor, the Baron had to endure his ordeal + unsupported. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder how the devil he's getting on!” he more than once said to + himself. + </p> + <p> + For better or for worse, as the dinner advanced, he began to hear the + Court accent more frequently, till his curiosity became extreme. + </p> + <p> + “His lordship seems in better spirits,” remarked Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “I hope to Heaven he may be!” was the fervent thought of Count Bunker. + </p> + <p> + At that moment the point was settled. With his old roar of exuberant gusto + the Baron announced, in a voice that drowned even the five ministers— + </p> + <p> + “Ach, yes, I vill toss ze caber to-morrow! I vill toss him—so high!” + (his napkin flapped upwards). “How long shall he be? So tall as my castle: + Mees Gallosh, you shall help me? Ach, yes! Mit hands so fair ze caber vill + spring like zis!” + </p> + <p> + His pudding-spoon, in vivid illustration, skipped across the table and + struck his factor smartly on the shirt-front. + </p> + <p> + “Sare, I beg your pardon,” he beamed with a graciousness that charmed Mrs. + Gallosh even more than his spirited conversation—“Ach, do not return + it, please! It is from my castle silver—keep it in memory of zis + happy night!” + </p> + <p> + The royal generosity of this act almost reconciled Mrs. Gallosh to the + loss of one of her own silver spoons. + </p> + <p> + “Saved!” sighed Bunker, draining his glass with a relish he had not felt + in any item of the feast hitherto. + </p> + <p> + Now that the Baron's courage had returned, no heraldic lion ever pranced + more bravely. His laughter, his jests, his compliments were showered upon + the delighted diners. Mr. Gallosh and he drank healths down the whole + length of the table “mit no tap-heels!” at least four times. He peeled an + orange for Miss Gallosh, and cut the skin into the most diverting figures, + pressing her hand tenderly as he presented her with these works of art. He + inquired of Mrs. Gallosh the names of the clergymen, and, shouting + something distantly resembling these, toasted them each and all with what + he conceived to be appropriate comments. Finally he rose to his feet, and, + to the surprise and delight of all, delivered the speech they had been + disappointed of earlier in the day. + </p> + <p> + “Goot Mr. Gallosh, fair Mrs. Gallosh, divine Mees Gallosh, and all ze + ladies and gentlemans, how sorry I vas I could not make my speech before, + I cannot eggspress. I had a headache, and vas not vell vithin. Ach, soch + zings vill happen in a new climate. Bot now I am inspired to tell you I + loff you all! I zank you eggstremely! How can I return zis hospitality? I + vill tell you! You must all go to Bavaria and stay mit——” + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle! Tulliwuddle!” shouted Bunker frantically, to the great + amazement of the company. “Allow me to invite the company myself to stay + with me in Bavaria!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron turned crimson, as he realized the abyss of error into which he + had so nearly plunged. Adroitly the Count covered his confusion with a fit + of laughter so ingeniously hearty that in a moment he had joined in it + too. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha, ha!” he shouted. “Zat was a leetle joke at my friend's eggspense. + It is here, in my castle, you shall visit me; some day very soon I shall + live in him. Meanvile, dear Mrs. Gallosh, gonsider it your home! For me + you make it heaven, and I cannot ask more zan zat! Now let us gom and have + some fon!” + </p> + <p> + A salvo of applause greeted this conclusion. At the Baron's impetuous + request the cigars were brought into the hall, and ladies and gentlemen + all trooped out together. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot vait till I have seen Miss Gallosh dance ze Highland reel,” he + explained to her gratified mother; “she has promised me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must dance too, Lord Tulliwuddle,” said ravishing Miss Gallosh. + “You know you said you would.” + </p> + <p> + “A promise to a lady is a law,” replied the Baron gallantly, adding in a + lower tone, “especially to so fair a lady!” + </p> + <p> + “It's a pity his lordship hadn't on his kilt,” put in Mr. Gallosh + genially. + </p> + <p> + “By ze Gad, I vill put him on! Hoch! Ve vill have some fon!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron rushed from the hall, followed in a moment by his noble friend. + Bunker found him already wrapping many yards of tartan about his waist. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear fellow, you must take off your trousers,” he expostulated. + </p> + <p> + Despite his glee, the Baron answered with something of the Blitzenberg + dignity— + </p> + <p> + “Ze bare leg I cannot show to-night—not to dance mit ze young + ladies. Ven I have practised, perhaps; but not now, Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly the portraits of four centuries of Tulliwuddles beheld their + representative appear in the very castle of Hechnahoul with his + trouser-legs capering beneath an ill-hung petticoat of tartan. And, to + make matters worse in their canvas eyes, his own shameless laugh rang + loudest in the mirth that greeted his entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Ze garb of Gaul!” he announced, shaking with hilarity. “Gom, Bonker, + dance mit me ze Highland fling!” + </p> + <p> + The first night of Lord Tulliwuddle's visit to his ancestral halls is + still remembered among his native hills. The Count also, his mind now + rapturously at ease, performed prodigies. They danced together what they + were pleased to call the latest thing in London, sang a duet, waltzed with + the younger ladies, till hardly a head was left unturned, and, in short, + sent away the ministers and their ladies, the five Miss Cameron-Campbells, + the reading-party, and particularly the factor, with a new conception of a + Highland chief. As for the house-party, they felt that they were fortunate + beyond the lot of most ordinary mortals. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + The Baron sat among his heirlooms, laboriously disengaging himself from + his kilt. Fitfully throughout this process he would warble snatches of an + air which Miss Gallosh had sung. + </p> + <p> + “Whae vould not dee for Sharlie?” he trolled, “Ze yong chevalier!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't think of leaving to-morrow morning?” asked Count Bunker, + who was watching him with a complacent air. + </p> + <p> + “Mein Gott, no fears!” + </p> + <p> + “We had better wait, perhaps, till the afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “I go not for tree veeks! Gaben sie—das ist, gim'me zat tombler. Vun + more of mountain juice to ze health of all Galloshes! Partic'ly of vun! + Eh, old Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + The Count took care to see that the mountain juice was well diluted. His + friend had already found Scottish hospitality difficult to enjoy in + moderation. + </p> + <p> + “Baron, you gave us a marvellously lifelike representation of a Jacobite + chieftain!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron laughed a trifle vacantly. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, it is easy for me. Himmel, a Blitzenberg should know how! + Vollytoddle—Toddyvolly—whatsh my name, Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + The Count informed him. + </p> + <p> + “Tollivoddlesh is nozing to vat I am at home! Abs'lutely nozing! I have a + house twice as big as zis, and servants—Ach, so many I know not! + Bot, mein Bonker, it is not soch fon as zis! Mein Gott, I most get to bed. + I toss ze caber to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + And upon the arm of his faithful ally he moved cautiously towards his + bedroom. + </p> + <p> + But if he had enjoyed his evening well, his pleasure was nothing to the + gratification of his hosts. They could not bring themselves to break up + their party for the night: there were so many delightful reminiscences to + discuss. + </p> + <p> + “Of all the evenings ever I spent,” declared Mr. Gallosh, “this fair takes + the cake. Just to think of that aristocratic young fellow being as + companionable-like! When first I put eyes on him, I said to myself—'You're + not for the likes of us. All lords and ladies is your kind. Never a word + did he say in the boat till he heard the pipes play, and then I really + thought he was frightened! It must just have been a kind of home-sickness + or something.” + </p> + <p> + “It'll have been the tuning up that set his teeth on edge,” Mrs. Gallosh + suggested practically. + </p> + <p> + “Or perhaps his heart was stirred with thoughts of the past!” said Miss + Gallosh, her eyes brightening. + </p> + <p> + In any case, all were agreed that the development of his hereditary + instincts had been extraordinarily rapid. + </p> + <p> + “I never really properly talked with a lord before,” sighed Mrs. Rentoul; + “I hope they're all like this one.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gallosh, on the other hand, who boasted of having had one tete-a-tete + and joined in several general conversations with the peerage, appraised + Lord Tulliwuddle with greater discrimination. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he's got a soupcon!” she declared. “That's what I admire!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean his German accent?” asked Mr. Cromarty-Gow, who was renowned + for a cynical wit, and had been seeking an occasion to air it ever since + Lord Tulliwuddle had made Miss Gallosh promise to dance a reel with him. + </p> + <p> + But the feeling of the party was so strongly against a breath of + irreverent criticism, and their protest so emphatic, that he presently + strolled off to the smoking-room, wishing that Miss Gallosh, at least, + would exercise more critical discrimination. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think would they like breakfast in their own room, Duncan?” asked + Mrs. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “Offer it them—offer it them; they can but refuse, and it's a kind + of compliment to give them the opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “His lordship will not be wanting to rise early,” said Mr. Rentoul. “Did + you notice what an amount he could drink, Duncan? Man, and he carried it + fine! But he'll be the better of a sleep-in in the morning, him coming + from a journey too.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rentoul was a recognized authority on such questions, having, before + the days of his affluence, travelled for a notable firm of distillers. His + praise of Lord Tulliwuddle's capacity was loudly echoed by Mr. Gallosh, + and even the ladies could not but indulgently agree that he had exhibited + a strength of head worthy of his race. + </p> + <p> + “And yet he was a wee thing touched too,” said Mr. Rentoul sagely. “Maybe + you were too far gone yourself, Duncan, to notice it, and the ladies would + just think it was gallantry; but I saw it in his voice and his legs—oh, + just a wee thingie, nothing to speak of.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely you are mistaken!” cried Miss Gallosh. “Wasn't it only excitement + at finding himself at Hechnahoul?” + </p> + <p> + “There's two kinds of excitement,” answered the oracle. “And this was the + kind I'm best acquaint with. Oh, but it was just a wee bittie.” + </p> + <p> + “And who thinks the worse of him for it?” cried Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + This question was answered by general acclamation in a manner and with a + spirit that proved how deeply his lordship's gracious behavior had laid + hold of all hearts. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + Breakfast in the private parlor was laid for two; but it was only Count + Bunker, arrayed in a becoming suit of knickerbockers, and looking as fresh + as if he had feasted last night on aerated water, who sat down to consume + it. + </p> + <p> + “Who would be his ordinary everyday self when there are fifty more amusing + parts to play,” he reflected gaily, as he sipped his coffee. “Blitzenberg + and Essington were two conventional members of society, ageing + ingloriously, tamely approaching five-and-thirty in bath-chairs. + Tulliwuddle and Bunker are paladins of romance! We thought we had grown up—thank + Heaven, we were deceived!” + </p> + <p> + Having breakfasted and lit a cigarette, he essayed for the second time to + arouse the Baron; but getting nothing but the most somnolent responses, he + set out for a stroll, visiting the gardens, stables, kennels, and keeper's + house, and even inspecting a likely pool or two upon the river, and making + in the course of it several useful acquaintances among the Tulliwuddle + retainers. + </p> + <p> + When he returned he found the Baron stirring a cup of strong tea and + staring at an ancestral portrait with a thoughtful frown. + </p> + <p> + “They are preparing the caber, Baron,” he remarked genially. + </p> + <p> + “Stoff and nonsense; I vill not fling her!” was the wholly unexpected + reply. “I do not love to play ze fool alvays!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron!” + </p> + <p> + “Zat picture,” said the Baron, nodding his head solemnly towards the + portrait. “It is like ze Lord Tollyvoddle in ze print at ze hotel. I do + believe he is ze same.” + </p> + <p> + “But I explained that he wasn't Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + “He is so like,” repeated the Baron moodily. “He most be ze same.” + </p> + <p> + Bunker looked at it and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “A different man, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ze devil!” replied the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “I haff a head zat tvists and turns like my head never did since many + years.” + </p> + <p> + The Count had already surmised as much. + </p> + <p> + “Hang it out of the window,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + The Baron made no reply for some minutes. Then with an earnest air he + began— + </p> + <p> + “Bonker, I have somezing to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have the most sympathetic audience outside the clan.” + </p> + <p> + The Count's cheerful tone did not seem to please his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Your heart, he is too light, Bonker; ja, too light. Last night you did + engourage me not to be seemly.” + </p> + <p> + “I!” + </p> + <p> + “I did get almost dronk. If my head vas not so hard I should be dronk. Das + ist not right. If I am to be ze Tollyvoddle, it most be as I vould be Von + Blitzenberg. I most not forget zat I am not as ozzer men. I am noble, and + most be so accordingly.” + </p> + <p> + “What steps do you propose to take?” inquired Bunker with perfect gravity. + </p> + <p> + The Baron stared at the picture. + </p> + <p> + “Last night I had a dream. It vas zat man—at least, probably it vas, + for I cannot remember eggsactly. He did pursue me mit a kilt.” + </p> + <p> + “With what did you defend yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not: I jost remember zat it should be a warning. Ve Blitzenbergs + have ze gift to dream.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron rose from the table and lit a cigar. After three puffs he threw + it from him. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot smoke,” he said dismally. “It has a onpleasant taste.” + </p> + <p> + The Count assumed a seriously thoughtful air. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt you will wish to see Miss Maddison as soon as possible and get + it over,” he began. “I have just learned that their place is about seven + miles away. We could borrow a trap this afternoon——” + </p> + <p> + “Nein, nein!” interrupted the Baron. “Donnerwetter! Ach, no, it most not + be so soon. I most practise a leetle first. Not so immediately, Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + Bunker looked at him with a glance of unfathomable calm. + </p> + <p> + “I find that it will be necessary for you to observe one or two ancient + ceremonies, associated from time immemorial with the accession of a + Tulliwuddle. You are prepared for the ordeal?” + </p> + <p> + “I most do my duty, Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + “This suggests some more inspiring vision than the gentleman in the gold + frame,” thought the Count acutely. + </p> + <p> + Aloud he remarked + </p> + <p> + “You have high ideals, Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so.” + </p> + <p> + Again the Baron was the unconscious object of a humorous, perspicacious + scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “Last night I did hear zat moch was to be expected from me,” he observed + at length. + </p> + <p> + “From Mrs. Gallosh?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not zink it vas from Mrs. Gallosh.” + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You inflamed all hearts last night,” said he. + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked grave. + </p> + <p> + “I did drink too moch last night. But I did not say vat I should not, eh? + I vas not rude or gross to—Mistair Gallosh?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to Mr. Gallosh.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked a trifle perturbed at the gravity of his tone. + </p> + <p> + “I vas not too free, too undignified in presence of zat innocent and + charming lady—Miss Gallosh?” + </p> + <p> + The air of scrutiny passed from Count Bunker's face, and a droll smile + came instead. + </p> + <p> + “Baron, I understand your ideals and I appreciate your motives. As you + suggest, you had better rehearse your part quietly for a few days. Miss + Maddison will find you the more perfect suitor.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked as though he knew not whether to feel satisfied or not. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” said the Count in a moment, “have you written to the + Baroness yet? Pardon me for reminding you, but you must remember that your + letters will have to go out to Russia and back.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron started. + </p> + <p> + “Teufel!” he exclaimed. “I most indeed write.” + </p> + <p> + “The post goes at twelve.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron reflected gloomily, and then slowly moved to the writing-table + and toyed with his pen. A few minutes passed, and then in a fretful voice + he asked— + </p> + <p> + “Vat shall I say?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her about your journey across Europe—how the crops look in + Russia—what you think of St. Petersburg—that sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + A silent quarter of an hour went by, and then the Baron burst out + </p> + <p> + “Ach, I cannot write to-day! I cannot invent like you. Ze crops—I + have got zat—and zat I arrived safe—and zat Petersburg is + nice. Vat else?” + </p> + <p> + “Anything you can remember from text-books on Muscovy or illustrated + interviews with the Czar. Just a word or two, don't you know, to show + you've been there; with a few comments of your own.” + </p> + <p> + “Vat like comments?” + </p> + <p> + “Such as—'Somewhat annoyed with bombs this afternoon,' or 'This + caused me to reflect upon the disadvantages of an alcoholic marine'—any + little bit of philosophy that occurs to you.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron pondered. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pity zat I have not been in Rossia,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “On the other hand, it is a blessing your wife hasn't. Look at the bright + side of things, my dear fellow.” + </p> + <p> + For a short time, from the way in which the Baron took hasty notes in + pencil and elaborated them in ink (according to the system of Professor + Virchausen), it appeared that he was following his friend's directions. + Later, from a sentimental look in his eye, the Count surmised that he was + composing an amorous addendum; and at last he laid down his pen with a + sigh which the cynical (but only the cynical) might have attributed to + relief. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my head he is getting more clear!” he announced. “Gom, let us present + ourselves to ze ladies, mine Bonker!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + “It is necessary, Bonker—you are sure?” + </h3> + <p> + “No Tulliwuddle has ever omitted the ceremony. If you shirked, I am + assured on the very best authority that it would excite the gravest + suspicions of your authenticity.” + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker spoke with an air of the most resolute conviction. Ever since + they arrived he had taken infinite pains to discover precisely what was + expected of the chieftain, and having by great good luck made the + acquaintance of an elderly individual who claimed to be the piper of the + clan, and who proved a perfect granary of legends, he was able to supply + complete information on every point of importance. Once the Baron had + endeavored to corroborate these particulars by interviewing the piper + himself, but they had found so much difficulty in understanding one + another's dialects that he had been content to trust implicitly to his + friend's information. The Count, indeed, had rather avoided than sought + advice on the subject, and the piper, after several confidential + conversations and the passage of a sum of silver into his sporran, + displayed an equally Delphic tendency. + </p> + <p> + The Baron, therefore, argued the present point no longer. + </p> + <p> + “It is jost a mere ceremony,” he said. “Ach, vell, nozing vill happen. Zis + ghost—vat is his name?” + </p> + <p> + “It is known as the Wraith of the Tulliwuddles. The heir must interview it + within a week of coming to the Castle.” + </p> + <p> + “Vere most I see him?” + </p> + <p> + “In the armory, at midnight. You bring one friend, one candle, and wear a + bonnet with one eagle's feather in it. You enter at eleven and wait for an + hour—and, by the way, neither of you must speak above a whisper.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! Jost hombog!” said the Baron valiantly. “I do not fear soch trash.” + </p> + <p> + “When the Wraith appears——” + </p> + <p> + “My goot Bonker, he vill not gom!” + </p> + <p> + “Supposing he does come—and mind you, strange things happen in these + old buildings, particularly in the Highlands, and after dinner; if he + comes, Baron, you must ask him three questions.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron laughed scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “If I see a ghost I vill ask him many interesting questions—if he + does feel cold, and sochlike, eh? Ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + With an imperturbable gravity that was not without its effect upon the + other, however gaily he might talk, Bunker continued, + </p> + <p> + “The three questions are: first, 'What art thou?' second, 'Why comest thou + here, O spirit?' third, 'What instructions desirest thou to give me?' + Strictly speaking, they ought to be asked in Gaelic, but exceptions have + been made on former occasions, and Mac-Dui—who pipes, by the way, in + the anteroom—assures me that English will satisfy the Wraith in your + case.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron sniffed and laughed, and twirled up the ends of his mustaches + till they presented a particularly desperate appearance. Yet there was a + faint intonation of anxiety in his voice as he inquired— + </p> + <p> + “You vill gom as my friend, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Quite out of the question, I am sorry to say. To bring a foreigner (as + I am supposed to be) would rouse the clan to rebellion. No, Baron, you + have a chance of paying a graceful compliment to your host which you must + not lose. Ask Mr. Gallosh to share your vigil.” + </p> + <p> + “Gallosh—he vould not be moch good sopposing—Ach, but nozing + vill happen! I vill ask him.” + </p> + <p> + The pride of Mr. Gallosh on being selected as his lordship's friend on + this historic occasion was pleasant to witness. + </p> + <p> + “It's just a bit of fiddle-de-dee,” he informed his delighted family. + “Duncan Gallosh to be looking for bogles is pretty ridiculous—but + oh, I can't refuse to disoblige his lordship.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think not, when he's done you the honor to invite you out of all + his friends!” said Mrs. Gallosh warmly. “Eva! do you hear the compliment + that's been paid your papa?” + </p> + <p> + Eva, their fair eldest daughter, came into the room at a run. She had + indeed heard (since the news was on every tongue), and impetuously she + flung her arms about her father's neck. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa, do him credit!” she cried; “it's like a story come true! What a + romantic thing to happen!” + </p> + <p> + “What a spirit!” her mother reflected proudly. “She is just the girl for a + chieftain's bride!” + </p> + <p> + That very night was chosen for the ceremony, and eleven o'clock found them + all assembled breathless in the drawing-room: all, save Lord Tulliwuddle + and his host. + </p> + <p> + “Will they have to wait for a whole hour?” asked Mrs. Gallosh in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + Indeed they all spoke in subdued accents. + </p> + <p> + “I am told,” replied the Count, “that the apparition never appears till + after midnight has struck. Any time between twelve and one he may be + expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Think of the terrible suspense after twelve has passed!” whispered Eva. + </p> + <p> + The Count had thought of this. + </p> + <p> + “I advised Duncan to take his flask,” said Mr. Rentoul, with a solemn + wink. “So he'll not be so badly off.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa would never do such a thing to-night!” cried Eva. + </p> + <p> + “It's always a kind of precaution,” said the sage. + </p> + <p> + Presently Count Bunker, who had been imparting the most terrific + particulars of former interviews with the Wraith to the younger Galloshes, + remarked that he must pass the time by overtaking some pressing + correspondence. + </p> + <p> + “You will forgive me, I hope, for shutting myself up for an hour or so,” + he said to his hostess. “I shall come back in time to learn the results of + the meeting.” + </p> + <p> + And with the loss of his encouraging company a greater uneasiness fell + upon the party. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, in a vast cavern of darkness, lit only by the solitary candle, + the Baron and his host endeavored to maintain the sceptical buoyancy with + which they had set forth upon their adventure. But the chilliness of the + room (they had no fire, and it was a misty night with a moaning wind), the + inordinate quantity of odd-looking shadows, and the profound silence, were + immediately destructive to buoyancy and ultimately trying to scepticism. + </p> + <p> + “I wish ze piper vould play,” whispered the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe he'll begin nearer the time,” his companion suggested. + </p> + <p> + The Baron shivered. For the first time he had been persuaded to wear the + full panoply of a Highland chief, and though he had exhibited himself to + the ladies with much pride, and even in the course of dinner had promised + Eva Gallosh that he would never again don anything less romantic, he now + began to think that a travelling-rug of the Tulliwuddle tartan would prove + a useful addition to the outfit on the occasion of a midnight vigil. Also + the stern prohibition against talking aloud (corroborated by the piper + with many guttural warnings) grew more and more irksome as the night + advanced. + </p> + <p> + “It's an awesome place,” whispered Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly thought it would have been as lonesome-like.” + </p> + <p> + There was a tremor in his voice that irritated the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” he answered, “it is jost vun old piece of hombog! I do not believe + in soch things myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I, my lord; oh, neither do I; but—would you fancy a + dram?” + </p> + <p> + “Not for me, I zank you,” said his lordship stiffly. + </p> + <p> + Blessing the foresight of Mr. Rentoul, his host unscrewed his flask and + had a generous swig. As he was screwing on the top again, the Baron, in a + less haughty voice, whispered, + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps jost vun leetle taste.” + </p> + <p> + They felt now for a few minutes more aggressively disposed. + </p> + <p> + “Ve need not have ze curtain shut,” said the Baron. “Soppose you do draw + him?” + </p> + <p> + Through the gloom Mr. Gallosh took one or two faltering steps. + </p> + <p> + “Man, it's awful hard to see one's way,” he said nervously. + </p> + <p> + The Baron took the candle, and with a martial stride escorted him to the + window. They pulled aside one corner of the heavy curtain, and then let it + fall again and hurried back. So far north there was indeed a gleam of + daylight left, but it was such a pale and ghostly ray, and the wreaths of + mist swept so eerily and silently across the pane, that candle-light and + shadows seemed vastly preferable. + </p> + <p> + “How much more time will there be?” whispered Mr. Gallosh presently. + </p> + <p> + “It is twenty-five minutes to twelve.” + </p> + <p> + “Your lordship! Can we leave at twelve?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron started. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Himmel!” he exclaimed. “Vy did I not realize before? If nozing comes—and + nozing vill come—ve most stay till one, I soppose.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gallosh emitted something like a groan. + </p> + <p> + “Oh my, and that candle will not last more than half an hour at the most!” + </p> + <p> + “Teufel!” said the Baron. “It vas Bonker did give him to me. He might have + made a more proper calculation.” + </p> + <p> + The prospect was now gloomy indeed. An hour of candle-light had been bad, + but an hour of pitch darkness or of mist wreaths would be many times + worse. + </p> + <p> + “A wee tastie more, my lord?” Mr. Gallosh suggested, in a voice whose + vibrations he made an effort to conceal. + </p> + <p> + “Jost a vee,” said his lordship, hardly more firmly. + </p> + <p> + With a dismal disregard for their suspense the minutes dragged infinitely + slowly. The flask was finished; the candle guttered and flickered + ominously; the very shadows grew restless. + </p> + <p> + “There's a lot of secret doors and such like in this part of the house—let's + hope there'll be nothing coming through one of them,” said Mr. Gallosh in + a breaking voice. + </p> + <p> + The Baron muttered an inaudible reply, and then with a start their + shoulders bumped together. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it, what's yon!” whispered Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “Ze pipes! Gallosh, how beastly he does play!” + </p> + <p> + In point of fact the air seemed to consist of only one wailing note. + </p> + <p> + “Bong!”—they heard the first stroke of midnight on the big clock on + the Castle Tower; and so unfortunately had Count Bunker timed the candle + that on the instant its flame expired. + </p> + <p> + “Vithdraw ze curtains!” gasped the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “I canna, my lord! Oh, I canna!” wailed Mr. Gallosh, breaking out into his + broadest native Scotch. + </p> + <p> + This time the Baron made no movement, and in the palpitating silence the + two sat through one long dark minute after another, till some ten of them + had passed. + </p> + <p> + “I shall stand it no more!” muttered the Baron. “Ve vill creep for ze + door.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord, my lord! For maircy's sake gie's a hold of you!” stammered Mr. + Gallosh, falling on his hands and knees and feeling for the skirt of his + lordship's kilt. + </p> + <p> + But their flight was arrested by a portent so remarkable that had there + been only a single witness one would suppose it to be a figment of his + imagination. Fortunately, however, both the Baron and Mr. Gallosh can + corroborate each detail. About the middle, apparently, of the wall + opposite, an oblong of light appeared in the thickest of the gloom. + </p> + <p> + “Mein Gott!” cried the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “It's filled wi' reek!” gasped Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + And indeed the space seemed filled with a slowly rising cloud of pungent + blue smoke. Then their horrified eyes beheld the figure of an undoubted + Being hazily outlined behind the cloud, and at the same time the piper, as + if sympathetically aware of the crisis, burst into his most dreadful + discords. A yell rang through the gloom, followed by the sounds of a heavy + body alternately scuffling across the floor and falling prostrate over + unseen furniture. The Baron felt for his host, and realized that this was + the escaping Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle! Speak!” a hollow voice muttered out of the smoke. + </p> + <p> + The Baron has never ceased to exult over the hardihood he displayed in + this unnerving crisis. Rising to his feet and drawing his claymore, he + actually managed to stammer out— + </p> + <p> + “Who—who are you?” + </p> + <p> + The Being (he could now perceive dimly that it was clad in tartan) + answered in the same deep, measured voice— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Your senses to confound and fuddle, + Behold the Wraith of Tulliwuddle!” + </pre> + <p> + This was sufficiently terrifying, one would think, to excuse the Baron for + following the example of his host. But, though he found afterwards that he + must have perspired freely, he courageously stood his ground. + </p> + <p> + “Vy have you gomed here?” he demanded in a voice nearly as hollow as the + Wraith. + </p> + <p> + As solemnly as before the spirit replied— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “From Pit that's bottomless and dark— + Methinks I hear it shrieking—Hark!” + </pre> + <p> + (The Baron certainly did hear a tumult that might well be termed infernal; + though whether it emanated from Mr. Gallosh, fiends, or the piper, he + could not at the moment feel certain.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I came o'er many leagues of heather + To carry back the answer whether + The noble chieftain of my clan + Conducts him like a gentleman.” + </pre> + <p> + After this warning, to put the third question required an effort of the + most supreme resolution. The Baron was equal to it, however. + </p> + <p> + “Vat instroction do you give me?” he managed to utter. + </p> + <p> + In the gravest accents the Wraith chanted— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hang ever kilt above the knee, + With Usquebaugh be not too free, + When toasts and sic'like games be mooted + See that your dram be well diluted; + And oh, if you'd escape from Hades, + Lord Tulliwuddle, 'ware the ladies!” + </pre> + <p> + The spirit vanished as magically as he had appeared, and with this solemn + warning ringing in his ears, the Baron found himself in inky darkness + again. This time he did not hesitate to grope madly for the door, but + hardly had he reached it, when, with a fresh sensation of horror, he + stumbled upon a writhing form that seemed to be pawing the panels. He was, + fortunately; as quickly reassured by hearing the voice of Mr. Gallosh + exclaim in terrified accents— + </p> + <p> + “I canna find the haundle! Oh, Gosh, where's the haundle?” + </p> + <p> + Being the less frenzied of the two, the Baron did succeed in finding the + handle, and with a gasp of relief burst into the lighted anteroom. The + piper had already departed, and evidently in haste, since he had left some + portion of a bottle of whisky unfinished. This fortunate circumstance + enabled them to recover something of their color, though, even when he + felt his blood warming again, Mr. Gallosh could scarcely speak coherently + of his terrible ordeal. + </p> + <p> + “What an awfu' night! what an awfu' night!” he murmured. “Oh, my lord, + let's get out of this!” + </p> + <p> + He was making for the door when the Baron seized his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Vait!” he cried. “Ze danger is past! Ach, vas I not brave? Did you not + hear me speak to him? You can bear vitness how brave I vas, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll not swear I heard just exactly what passed, my lord. Man, I'll own I + was awful feared!” + </p> + <p> + “Tuts! tuts!” said the Baron kindly. “Ve vill say nozing about zat. You + stood vell by me, I shall say. And you vill tell zem I did speak mit + courage to ze ghost.” + </p> + <p> + “I will that!” said Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + By the time they reached the drawing-room he had so far recovered his + equanimity as to prove a very creditable witness, and between them they + gave such an account of their adventure as satisfied even the excited + expectations of their friends; though the Baron thought it both prudent + and more becoming his dignity to leave considerable mystery attaching to + the precise revelations of his ancestral spirit. + </p> + <p> + “Bot vere is Bonker?” he asked, suddenly noticing the absence of his + friend. + </p> + <p> + A moment later the Count entered and listened with the greatest interest + to a second (and even more graphic) account of the adventure. More + intimate particulars still were confided to him when they had retired to + their own room, and he appeared as surprised and impressed as any + wraith-seer could desire. As they parted for the night, the Baron started + and sniffed at him. + </p> + <p> + “Vat a strange smell you have!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Peat smoke, probably. This fire wouldn't draw.” + </p> + <p> + “Strange!” mused the Baron. “I did smell a leetle smell of zat before + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; one notices it all through the house with an east wind.” + </p> + <p> + This seemed to the Baron a complete explanation of the coincidence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + At the house in Belgrave Square at present tenanted by the Baron and + Baroness von Blitzenberg, an event of considerable importance had + occurred. This was nothing less than the arrival of the Countess of + Grillyer upon a visit both of affection and state. So important was she, + and so great the attachment of her daughter, that the preparations for her + reception would have served for a reigning sovereign. But the Countess had + an eye as quick and an appetite for respect as exacting as Queen + Elizabeth, and she had no sooner embraced the Baroness and kissed her + ceremoniously upon either cheek, than her glance appeared to seek + something that she deemed should have been there also. + </p> + <p> + “And where is Rudolph?” she demanded. “Is he so very busy that he cannot + spare a moment even to welcome me?” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness changed color, but with as easy an air as she could assume + she answered that Rudolph had most unfortunately been summoned from + England. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” observed the Countess, and the observation was made in a tone + that suggested the advisability of a satisfactory explanation. + </p> + <p> + This paragon among mothers and peeresses was a lady of majestic port, + whose ascendant expression and commanding voice were commonly held to + typify all that is best in the feudal system; or, in other words, to + indicate that her opinions had never been contradicted in her life. When + one of these is a firm belief in the holder's divine rights and + semi-divine origin, the effect is undoubtedly impressive. And the Countess + impressed. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Alicia,” said she, when they had settled down to tea and + confidential talk, “you have not yet told me what has taken Rudolph abroad + again so soon.” + </p> + <p> + On nothing had the Baron laid more stress than on the necessity of + maintaining the most profound secrecy respecting his mission. “No, not + even to your mozzer most you say. My love, you vill remember?” had been + almost his very last words before departing for St. Petersburg. His + devoted wife had promised this not once, but many times, while his finger + was being shaken at her, and would have scorned herself had she thought it + possible to break her vows. + </p> + <p> + “That is a secret, mamma,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + Her mother opened her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “A secret from me, Alicia?” + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph made me promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to tell your friends—but that hardly was intended to include + your mother.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness looked uncomfortable. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm afraid——” she began, and stopped in hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Did he specifically include me?” demanded the Countess in an altered + tone. + </p> + <p> + “I think, mamma, he did,” her daughter faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + And there was a world of meaning in that comment. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, mamma, it is something very, very important, or Rudolph would + certainly have let me tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Grillyer opened her eyes still wider. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am to understand that he wishes to conceal from me anything that + he considers of importance?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Not that! I only mean that this thing is very secret.” + </p> + <p> + “Alicia,” pronounced the Countess, “when a man specifically conceals + anything from his mother-in-law, you may be quite certain that she ought + to be informed of it at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I can't, mamma!” + </p> + <p> + “A trip to Germany—for it is there, I presume, he has gone—back + to the scenes of his bachelorhood, unprotected by the influence of his + wife! Do you call that a becoming procedure?” + </p> + <p> + “But he hasn't gone to Germany.” + </p> + <p> + “He has no business anywhere else!” + </p> + <p> + “You forget his diplomatic duties.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! He professes to have gone on diplomatic business?” + </p> + <p> + “Professes, mamma?” exclaimed the poor Baroness. “How can you say such a + thing! He certainly has gone on a diplomatic mission!” + </p> + <p> + “To Paris, no doubt?” suggested Lady Grillyer, with an intonation that + made it quite impossible not to contradict her. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not! He has gone to Russia.” + </p> + <p> + The more the Countess learned, the more anxious she appeared to grow. + </p> + <p> + “To Russia, on a diplomatic mission? This is incredible, Alicia!” + </p> + <p> + “Why should it be incredible?” demanded Alicia, flushing. + </p> + <p> + “Because he is a mere tyro in diplomacy. Because there is a German embassy + at Petersburg, and they would not send a man from London on a mission—at + least, it is most unlikely.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me quite natural,” declared the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + She was showing more fight than her mother had ever encountered from her + before, and the opposition seemed to inflame Lady Grillyer's resentment + against the unfilial couple. + </p> + <p> + “You know nothing about it! What is this mission about?” + </p> + <p> + “That certainly is a secret,” said Alicia, relieved that there was + something left to keep her promise over. + </p> + <p> + “Has he gone alone?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I mustn't tell you, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Alicia's face betrayed this subterfuge. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know yourself, Alicia,” said the Countess incisively. “And so + you need no longer pretend to be keeping a secret from me. It now becomes + our joint business to discover the actual truth. Do not attempt to wrangle + with me further! This investigation is necessary for your peace of mind, + dear.” + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate Baroness dropped a silent tear. Her peace of mind had been + serenely undisturbed till this moment, and now it was only broken by the + thought of her husband's displeasure should he ever learn how she had + disobeyed his injunctions. Further investigation was the very last thing + to cure it, she said to herself bitterly. She looked piteously at her + parent, but there she only saw an expression of concentrated purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any reason, Alicia, to suspect an attachment—an affair of + any kind?” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not jump in that excitable manner. Think quietly. He has evidently + returned to Germany for some purpose which he wishes to conceal from us: + the natural supposition is that a woman is at the bottom of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph is incapable——” + </p> + <p> + “No man is incapable who is in the full possession of his faculties. I + know them perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “But, mamma, I cannot bear to think of such a thing!” + </p> + <p> + “That is a merely middle-class prejudice. I can't imagine where you have + picked it up.” + </p> + <p> + In point of fact, during Alicia's girlhood Lady Grillyer had always been + at the greatest pains to preserve her daughter's innocent simplicity, as + being preeminently a more marketable commodity than precocious + worldliness. But if reminded of this she would probably have retorted that + consistency was middle-class also. + </p> + <p> + “I have no reason to suspect anything of the sort,” the Baroness declared + emphatically. + </p> + <p> + Her mother indulged her with a pitying smile and inquired— + </p> + <p> + “What other explanation can you offer? Among his men friends is there + anyone likely to lead him into mischief?” + </p> + <p> + “None—at least——” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “He promised me he would avoid Mr. Bunker—I mean Mr. Essington.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess started. She had vivid and exceedingly distasteful + recollections of Mr. Bunker. + </p> + <p> + “That man! Are they still acquainted?” + </p> + <p> + “Acquainted—oh yes; but I give Rudolph credit for more sense and + more truthfulness than to renew their friendship.” + </p> + <p> + The Countess pondered with a very grave expression upon her face, while + Alicia gently wiped her eyes and ardently wished that her honest Rudolph + was here to defend his character and refute these baseless insinuations. + At length her mother said with a brisker air— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I know exactly what we must do. I shall make a point of seeing Sir + Justin Wallingford tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Justin Wallingford!” + </p> + <p> + “If anybody can obtain private information for us he can. We shall soon + learn whether the Baron has been sent to Russia.” + </p> + <p> + Alicia uttered a cry of protest. Sir Justin, ex-diplomatist, author of a + heavy volume of Victorian reminiscences, and confidant of many public + personages, was one of her mother's oldest friends; but to her he was only + one degree less formidable than the Countess, and quite the last person + she would have chosen for consultation upon this, or indeed upon any other + subject. + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to intrust my husband's secrets to him!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” replied the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “But I won't allow it! Rudolph would be——” + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph has only himself to blame. My dear Alicia, you can trust Sir + Justin implicitly. When my child's happiness is at stake I would consult + no one who was not discretion itself. I am very glad I thought of him.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “My child, my child!” said her mother compassionately. “The world is no + Garden of Eden, however much we may all try to make it so.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you don't se—seem to be trying now, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “May Heaven forgive you, my darling,” pronounced the Countess piously. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + “Sir Justin,” said the Countess firmly, “please tell my daughter exactly + what you have discovered.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin Wallingford sat in the drawing-room at Belgrave Square with one + of these ladies on either side of him. He was a tall, gaunt man with a + grizzled black beard, a long nose, and such a formidably solemn expression + that ambitious parents were in the habit of wishing that their offspring + might some day be as wise as Sir Justin Wallingford looked. His fund of + information was prodigious, while his reasoning powers were so remarkable + that he had never been known to commit the slightest action without + furnishing a full and adequate explanation of his conduct. Thus the + discrimination shown by the Countess in choosing him to restore a lady's + peace of mind will at once be apparent. + </p> + <p> + “The results of my inquiries,” he pronounced, “have been on the whole of a + negative nature. If this mission on which the Baron von Blitzenberg + professes to be employed is in fact of an unusually delicate nature, it is + just conceivable that the answer I received from Prince Gommell-Kinchen, + when I sounded him at the Khalifa's luncheon, may have been intended + merely to throw dust in my eyes. At the same time, his highness appeared + to speak with the candor of a man who has partaken, not excessively, you + understand, but I may say freely, of the pleasures of the table.” + </p> + <p> + He looked steadily first at one lady and then at the other, to let this + point sink in. + </p> + <p> + “And what did the Prince say?” asked the Baroness, who, in spite of her + supreme confidence in her husband, showed a certain eager nervousness + inseparable from a judicial inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “He told me—I merely give you his word, and not my own opinion; you + perfectly understand that, Baroness?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” she answered hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “He informed me that, in fact, the Baron had been obliged to ask for a + fortnight's leave of absence to attend to some very pressing and private + business in connection with his Silesian estates.” + </p> + <p> + “I think, Alicia, we may take that as final,” said her mother decisively. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed <i>I</i> shan't!” cried Alicia warmly. “That was just an excuse, + of course. Rudolph's business is so very delicate that—that—well, + that you could only expect Prince Gommell-Kinchen to say something of that + sort.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to that, Sir Justin?” demanded the Countess. + </p> + <p> + With the air of a man doing what was only his duty, he replied— + </p> + <p> + “I say that I think it is improbable. In fact, since you demand to know + the truth, I may inform you that the Prince added that leave of absence + was readily given, since the Baron's diplomatic duties are merely nominal. + To quote his own words, 'Von Blitzenberg is a nice fellow, and it pleases + the English ladies to play with him.'” + </p> + <p> + Even Lady Grillyer was a trifle taken aback at this description of her + son-in-law, while Alicia turned scarlet with anger. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe he said anything of the sort!” she cried. “You both of + you only want to hurt me and insult Rudolph! I won't stand it!” + </p> + <p> + She was already on her feet to leave them, when her mother stopped her, + and Sir Justin hastened to explain. + </p> + <p> + “No reflection upon the Baron's character was intended, I assure you. The + Prince merely meant to imply that he represented the social rather than + the business side of the embassy. And both are equally necessary, I assure + you—equally essential, Baroness, believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “In fact,” said the Countess, “the remark comes to this, that Rudolph + would never be sent to Russia, whatever else they might expect of him.” + </p> + <p> + Even through their tears Alicia's eyes brightened with triumph. + </p> + <p> + “But he HAS gone, mamma! I got a letter from him this morning—from + St. Petersburg!” + </p> + <p> + The satisfaction of her two physicians on hearing this piece of good news + took the form of a start which might well have been mistaken for mere + astonishment, or even for dismay. + </p> + <p> + “And you did not tell ME of it!” cried her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph did not wish me to. I have only told you now to prove how utterly + wrong you both are.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see this letter!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, mamma, I won't!” + </p> + <p> + The two ladies looked at one another with such animosity that Sir Justin + felt called upon to interfere. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose the Baroness were to read us as much as is necessary to convince + us that there is no possibility of a mistake,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + So profoundly did the Countess respect his advice that she graciously + waived her maternal rights so far as actually following the text with her + eyes went; while her daughter, after a little demur, was induced to depart + this one step further from her husband's injunctions. + </p> + <p> + “You have no objections to my glancing at the post-mark?” said Sir Justin + when this point was settled. + </p> + <p> + With a toss of her head the Baroness silently handed him the envelope. + </p> + <p> + “It seems correct,” he observed cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “But post-marks can be forged, can't they?” inquired the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “I fear they can,” he admitted, with a sorrowful air. + </p> + <p> + Scorning to answer this insinuation, the Baroness proceeded to read aloud + the following extracts: + </p> + <p> + “'I travelled with comfort through Europe, and having by many countries + passed, such as Germany and others, I arrived, my dear Alicia, in + Russia.'” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all he says about his journey?” interrupted Lady Grillyer. + </p> + <p> + “It is certainly a curiously insufficient description of a particularly + interesting route,” commented Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + “It almost seems as if he didn't know what other countries lie between + England and Russia,” added the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “It only means that he knows geography doesn't interest me!” replied + Alicia. “And he does say more about his journey—'Alone by myself, in + a carriage very quietly I travelled.' And again—'To be observed not + wishing, and strict orders being given to me, with no man I spoke all the + way.' There!” + </p> + <p> + “That certainly makes it more difficult to check his statements,” Sir + Justin admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he evidently thought of that!” said the Countess. “If he had said + there was anyone with him, we could have asked him afterwards who it was. + What a pity! Read on, my child—we are vastly interested.” + </p> + <p> + Thus encouraged, the Baroness continued + </p> + <p> + “'In Russia the crops are good, and from my window with pleasure I observe + them. Petersburg is a nice town, and I have a pleasant apartment in it!'” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed the Countess. “He is looking at the crops from his + window in St. Petersburg!” + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin grimly pursed his lips, but his silence was more ominous than + speech. In fact, the Baron's unfortunate effort at realism by the + introduction of his window struck the first blow at his wife's implicit + trust in him. She was evidently a little disconcerted, though she stoutly + declared— + </p> + <p> + “He is evidently living in the suburbs, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you be so kind as to read on a little farther?” interposed Sir + Justin in a grave voice. + </p> + <p> + “'The following reflections have I made. Russia is very large and cold, + where people in furs are to be seen, and sledges. Bombs are thrown + sometimes, and the marine is not good when it does drink too much.' Now, + mamma, he must have seen these things or he wouldn't put them in his + letter.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness broke of somewhat hurriedly to make this comment, almost + indeed as though she felt it to be necessary. As for her two comforters, + they looked at one another with so much sorrow that their eyes gleamed and + their lips appeared to smile. + </p> + <p> + “The Baron did not write that letter in Russia,” said Sir Justin + decisively. “Furs are not worn in summer, nor do the inhabitants travel in + sledges at this time of the year.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but he doesn't say he actually saw them,” pleaded the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Then that remark, just like the rest of his reflections, makes utter + nonsense,” rejoined her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” inquired Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + “Almost all—all that is important,” faltered the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear the rest,” said her mother inexorably. + </p> + <p> + “There is only a postscript, and that merely says—'The flask that + you filled I thank you for; it was so large that it was sufficient for——' + I can't read the last word.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see it, Alicia.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes ago Alicia would have torn the precious letter up rather + than let another eye fall upon it. That her devotion was a little + disturbed was proved by her allowing her two advisers to study even a + single sentence. Keeping her hand over the rest, she showed it to them. + They bent their brows, and then simultaneously exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “'Us both!'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it can't be!” cried the poor Baroness. + </p> + <p> + “It is absolutely certain,” said her mother in a terrible voice—“'It + was so large that it was sufficient for us both!'” + </p> + <p> + “There is no doubt about it,” corroborated Sir Justin sternly. “The + unfortunate young man has inadvertently confessed his deception.” + </p> + <p> + “It cannot be!” murmured the Baroness. “He said at the beginning that he + travelled quite alone.” + </p> + <p> + “That is precisely what condemns him,” said her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” reiterated Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + The Baroness audibly sobbed, while the two patchers of her peace of mind + gazed at her commiserately. + </p> + <p> + “What am I to do?” she asked at length. “I can't believe he really—— + But how am I to find out?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall make further investigations,” promptly replied Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + “And I also,” added the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile,” said Sir Justin, “we shall be exceedingly interested to learn + what further particulars of his wanderings the Baron supplies you with.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” observed the Countess, “he can fortunately be trusted to betray + himself. You will inform me, Alicia, as soon as you hear from him again.” + </p> + <p> + Her daughter made no reply. + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin rose and bade them a grave farewell. + </p> + <p> + “In my daughter's name I thank you cordially,” said the Countess, as she + pressed his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Anything I have done has been a pleasure to me,” he assured them with a + sincerity there was no mistaking. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + In an ancient and delightful garden, where glimpses of the loch below + gleamed through a mass of summer foliage, and the gray castle walls looked + down on smooth, green glades, the Baron slowly paced the shaven turf. But + he did not pace it quite alone, for by his side moved a graceful figure in + a wide, sun-shading hat and a frock entirely irresistible. Beneath the + hat, by bending a little down, you could have seen the dark liquid eyes + and tender lips of Eva Gallosh. And the Baron frequently bent down. + </p> + <p> + “I am proud of everyzing zat I find in my home,” said the Baron gallantly. + </p> + <p> + The lady's color rose, but not apparently in anger. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, here is a pretty leetle seat!” he exclaimed in a tone of pleased + discovery, just as though he had not been leading her insidiously towards + it ever since they, came into the garden. + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, a most shady and secluded bench, an ideal seat for any + gallant young Baron who had left his Baroness sufficiently far away. He + glanced down complacently upon his brawny knees, displayed (he could not + but think) to great advantage beneath his kilt and sporran, and then with + a tenderer complacency, turned his gaze upon his fair companion. + </p> + <p> + “You say you like me in ze tartan?” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “I adore everything Highland! Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle, how fortunate you + are!” + </p> + <p> + Nature had gifted Miss Gallosh with a generous share of romantic + sentiment. It was she who had egged on her father to rent this Highland + castle for the summer, instead of chartering a yacht as he had done for + the past few years; and ever since they had come here that sentiment had + grown, till she was ready to don the white cockade and plot a new Jacobite + uprising. Then, while her heart was in this inspired condition, a noble + young chief had stepped in to complete the story. No wonder her dark eyes + burned. + </p> + <p> + “What attachment you must feel for each stone of the Castle!” she + continued in a rapt voice. “How your heart must beat to remember that your + great-grandfather—wasn't his name Fergus?” + </p> + <p> + “Fergus: yes,” said the Baron, blindly but promptly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; it was Ian, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, so! Ian he vas.” + </p> + <p> + “You were thinking of his father,” she smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, his fazzer.” + </p> + <p> + She reflected sagely. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I get my facts mixed up some times. Ian—ah, Reginald + came before him—not Fergus!” + </p> + <p> + “Reginald—oh yes, so he did!” + </p> + <p> + She looked a trifle disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “If I were you I should know them all by heart,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I vill learn zem. Oh yes, I most not make soch mistakes.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed he registered a very sincere vow to study his family history that + afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “What was I saying? Oh yes—about your brave great-grandfather. Do + you know, Lord Tulliwuddle, I want to ask you a strange favor? You won't + think it very odd of me?” + </p> + <p> + “Odd? Never! Already it is granted.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to hear from your own lips—from the lips of an actual Lord + Tulliwuddle—the story of your ancestor Ian's exploit.” + </p> + <p> + With beseeching eyes and a face flushed with a sense of her presumption, + she uttered this request in a voice that tore the Baron with conflicting + emotions. + </p> + <p> + “Vich exploit do you mean?” he asked in a kindly voice but with a troubled + eye. + </p> + <p> + “You must know! When he defended the pass, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, so!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked at her, and though he boasted of no such inventive gifts + as his friend Bunker, his ardent heart bade him rather commit himself to + perdition than refuse. + </p> + <p> + “You will tell it to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I vill!” + </p> + <p> + Making as much as possible of the raconteur's privileges of clearing his + throat, settling himself into good position, and gazing dreamily at the + tree-tops for inspiration, he began in a slow, measured voice— + </p> + <p> + “In ze pass he stood. Zen gomed his enemies. He fired his gon and shooted + some dead. Zen did zey run avay. Zat vas vat happened.” + </p> + <p> + When he ventured to meet her candid gaze after thus lamely libelling his + forefather, he was horrified to observe that she had already recoiled some + feet away from him, and seemed still to be in the act of recoiling. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been kinder to tell me at once that I had asked too much!” + she exclaimed in a voice affected by several emotions. “I only wanted to + hear you repeat his death-cry as his foes slew him, so that it might + always seem more real to me. And you snub me like this!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron threw himself upon one knee. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me! I did jost lose mine head mit your eyes looking so at me! I + get confused, you are so lovely! I did not mean to snob!” + </p> + <p> + In the ardor of his penitence he discovered himself holding her hand; she + no longer seemed to be recoiling; and Heaven knows what might have + happened next if an ostentatious sound of whistling had not come to their + rescue. + </p> + <p> + “Bot you vill forgive?” he whispered, as they sprang up from their shady + seat. + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es,” she answered, just as the serene glance of Count Bunker fell + humorously upon them. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to have been plucking flowers, Tulliwuddle,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “Flowers? Oh, no.” + </p> + <p> + The Count glanced pointedly at his soiled knee. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said he. “Don't I see traces of a flower-bed?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should go in,” murmured Eva, and she was gone before the Count + had time to frame a compensating speech. + </p> + <p> + His friend Tulliwuddle looked at him with marked displeasure, yet seemed + to find some difficulty in adequately expressing it. + </p> + <p> + “I do not care for vat you said,” he remarked stiffly. “Nor for ze look + now on your face.” + </p> + <p> + “Baron,” said the Count imperturbably, “what did you tell me the Wraith + said to you—something about 'Beware of the ladies,' wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “You do not onderstand. Ze ghost” (he found some difficulty in pronouncing + the spirit's chosen name) “did soppose naturally zat I vas ze real Lord + Tollyvoddle, who is, as you have told me yourself, Bonker, somezing of a + fast fish. Ze varning vas to him obviously, so you should not turn it upon + me.” + </p> + <p> + Bunker opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “A deuced ingenious argument,” he commented. “It wouldn't have occurred to + me if you hadn't explained. Then you claim the privilege of wooing whom + you wish?” + </p> + <p> + “Wooing! You forget zat I am married, Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, I remember perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + His tone disturbed the Baron. Taking the Count's arm, he said to him with + moving earnestness— + </p> + <p> + “Have I not told you how constant I am—like ze magnet and ze pole?” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard you employ the simile.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, bot it is true! I am inside my heart so constant as it is possible! + But I now represent Tollyvoddle, and for his sake most try to do my best.” + </p> + <p> + Again Count Bunker glanced at his knee. + </p> + <p> + “And that is your best, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Bonker, and try to onderstand—not jost to make jokes. It + appears to me zat Miss Gallosh vill make a good vife to Tollyvoddle. She + is so fair, so amiable, and so rich. Could he do better? Should I not lay + ze foundations of a happy marriage mit her? Soppose ve do get her instead + of Miss Maddison, eh?” + </p> + <p> + His artful eloquence seemed to impress his friend, for he smiled + thoughtfully and did not reply at once. More persuasively than ever the + Baron continued— + </p> + <p> + “I do believe mit patience and mit—er—mit kindness, Bonker, I + might persuade Miss Gallosh to listen to ze proposal of Tollyvoddle. And + vould it not be better far to get him a lady of his own people, and not a + stranger from America? Ve vill not like Miss Maddison, I feel sure. Vy + troble mit her—eh, Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + “But don't you think, Baron, that we ought to give Tulliwuddle his choice? + He may prefer an American heiress to a Scottish.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if he sees Eva Gallosh!” + </p> + <p> + Again the Count gently raised his eyebrows in a way that the Baron could + not help considering unsuitable to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “On the other hand, Baron, Miss Maddison will probably have five or ten + times as much money as Miss Gallosh. In arranging a marriage for another + man, one must attend to such trifles as a few million dollars more or + less.” + </p> + <p> + For the moment the Baron was silenced, but evidently not convinced. + </p> + <p> + “Supposing I were to call upon the Maddisons as your envoy?” suggested + Bunker, who, to tell the truth, had already begun to tire of a life of + luxurious inaction. + </p> + <p> + “Pairhaps in a few days we might gonsider it.” + </p> + <p> + “We have been here for a week already.” + </p> + <p> + “Ven vould you call?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron frowned; but argument was difficult. + </p> + <p> + “You only jost vill go to see?” + </p> + <p> + “And report to you.” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose she is ogly—or not so nice—or so on——zen + vill I not see her, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose she is tolerable?” + </p> + <p> + “Zen vill ve give him a choice, and I vill continue to be polite to Miss + Gallosh. Ah, Bonker, she is so nice! He vill not like Miss Maddison so + vell! Himmel, I do admire her!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron's eyes shone with reminiscent affection. + </p> + <p> + “To how many poles is the magnet usually constant?” inquired the Count + with a serious air. + </p> + <p> + The Baron smiled a little foolishly, and then, with a confidential air, + replied— + </p> + <p> + “Ach, Bonker, marriage is blessed and it is happy, and it is everyzing + that my heart desires; only I jost sometimes vish it vas not qvite—qvite + so uninterruptable!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + In a dog-cart borrowed from his obliging host, Count Bunker approached the + present residence of Mr. Darius P. Maddison. He saw, and—in his + client's interest—noted with approval the efforts that were being + made to convert an ordinary fishing-lodge into a suitable retreat for a + gentleman worth so many million dollars. “Corryvohr,” as the house was + originally styled, or “Lincoln Lodge,” as the patriotic Silver King had + re-named it, had already been enlarged for his reception by the addition + of four complete suites of apartments, each suitable for a nobleman and + his retinue, an organ hall, 10,000 cubic yards of scullery accommodation, + and a billiard-room containing three tables. But since he had taken up his + residence there he had discovered the lack of several other essentials for + a quiet “mountain life” (as he appropriately phrased it), and these + defects were rapidly being remedied as our friend drove up. The + conservatory was already completed, with the exception of the orchid and + palm houses; the aviary was practically ready, and several crates of the + rarer humming-birds were expected per goods train that evening; while a + staff of electricians could be seen erecting the private telephone by + which Mr. Maddison proposed to keep himself in touch with the silver + market. + </p> + <p> + The Count had no sooner pressed the electric bell than a number of + men-servants appeared, sufficient to conduct him in safety to a handsome + library fitted with polished walnut, and carpeted as softly as the moss on + a mountain-side. Having sent in his card, he entertained himself by gazing + out of the window and wondering what strange operation was being conducted + on a slope above the house, where a grove of pines were apparently being + rocked to and fro by a concourse of men with poles and pulleys. But he had + not to wait long, for with a promptitude that gave one some inkling of the + secret of Mr. Maddison's business success, the millionaire entered. + </p> + <p> + In a rapid survey the Count perceived a tall man in the neighborhood of + sixty: gray-haired, gray-eyed, and gray-faced. The clean-shaved and + well-cut profile included the massive foundation of jaw which Bunker had + confidently anticipated, and though his words sounded florid in a European + ear, they were uttered in a voice that corresponded excellently with this + predominant chin. + </p> + <p> + “I am very pleased to see you, sir, very pleased indeed,” he assured the + Count not once but several times, shaking him heartily by the hand and + eyeing him with a glance accustomed to foresee several days before his + fellows the probable fluctuations in the price of anything. + </p> + <p> + “I have taken the liberty of calling upon you in the capacity of Lord + Tulliwuddle's confidential friend,” the Count began. “He is at present, as + you may perhaps have learned, visiting his ancestral possessions——” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, for some days we have been expecting his lordship and + yourself to honor us with a visit,” Mr. Maddison interposed. “You need not + trouble to introduce yourself. The name of Count Bunker is already + familiar to us.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed ceremoniously as he spoke, and the Count with no less politeness + laid his hand upon his heart and bowed also. + </p> + <p> + “I looked forward to the meeting with pleasure,” he replied. “But it has + already exceeded my anticipations.” + </p> + <p> + He would have still further elaborated these assurances, but with his + invariable tact he perceived a shrewd look in the millionaire's eye that + warned him he had to do with a man accustomed to flowery preliminaries + from the astutest manipulators of a deal. + </p> + <p> + “I am only sorry you should find our little cottage in such disorder,” + said Mr. Maddison. “The contractor for the conservatory undertook to erect + it in a week, and my only satisfaction is that he is now paying me a + forfeit of 500 dollars a day. As for the electricians in this country, + sir, they are not incompetent men, but they must be taught to hustle if + they are to work under American orders; and I don't quite see how they are + to find a job anyways else.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the window with a more satisfied air. + </p> + <p> + “Here, however, you will perceive a tolerably satisfactory piece of work. + I guess those trees will be ready pretty near as soon as the capercailzies + are ready for them.” + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that you are erecting a pine wood?” + </p> + <p> + “You do. That fir forest is my daughter's notion. She thought ordinary + plane-trees looked kind of unsuitable for our mountain home. The land of + Burns and of the ill-fated Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, should have more + appropriate foliage than that! Well, sir, it took four hundred men just + three days to remove the last traces of the last root of the last of those + plane-trees.” + </p> + <p> + “And the pines, I suppose, you brought from a neighboring wood?” said the + Count, patriotically endeavoring not to look too dumbfoundered. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Lord Tulliwuddle's factor was too slow for me—said he must + consult his lordship before removing the timber on the estate. I cabled to + Norway: the trees arrived yesterday in Aberdeen, and I guess half of them + are as near perpendicular by now as a theodolite can make them. They are + being erected, sir, on scientific principles.” + </p> + <p> + Restraining his emotion with a severe effort, Bunker quietly observed + </p> + <p> + “Very good idea. I don't know that it would have occurred to me to land + them at Aberdeen.” + </p> + <p> + From the corner of his eye he saw that his composure had produced a + distinct impression, but he found it hard to retain it through the Silver + King's next statement. + </p> + <p> + “You have taken a long lease of Lincoln Lodge, I presume?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “One year,” said Mr. Maddison. “But I reckon to be comfortable if I'm + spending twenty minutes at a railroad junction.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” responded the Count, “in that case shifting a forest must be + child's-play.” + </p> + <p> + The millionaire smiled affably at this pleasantry and invited his guest to + be seated. + </p> + <p> + “You will try something American, I hope, Count Bunker?” he asked, + touching the bell. + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker, rightly conceiving this to indicate a cock-tail, replied + that he would, and in as nearly seven and a half seconds as he could + calculate, a tray appeared with two of these remarkable compounds. + Following his host's example, the Count threw his down at a gulp. + </p> + <p> + “The same,” said Mr. Maddison simply. And in an almost equally brief space + the same arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, when they were alone again, “I hope you will pardon me, + Count, if I am discourteous enough to tell you that my time is + uncomfortably cramped. When I first came here I found that I was expected + to stand upon the shore of the river for two hours on the chance of + catching one salmon. But I have changed all that. As soon as I step + outside my door, my ghillie brings me my rod, and if there ain't a salmon + at the end for me to land, another ghillie will receive his salary. Since + lunch I have caught a fish, despatched fifteen cablegrams, and dictated + nine letters. I am only on holiday here, and if I don't get through double + that amount in the next two hours I scarcely see my way to do much more + fishing to-day. That being so, let us come right to the point. You bring + some kind of proposition from Lord Tulliwuddle, I guess?” + </p> + <p> + During his drive the Count had cogitated over a number of judicious + methods of opening the delicate business; but his adaptability was equal + to the occasion. In as business-like a tone as his host, he replied— + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Mr. Maddison. Lord Tulliwuddle has deputed me to + open negotiations for a certain matrimonial project.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maddison's expression showed his appreciation of this candor and + delicacy. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “to be quite frank, Count, I should have thought all the + better of his lordship if he had been a little more prompt about the + business.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not through want of admiration for Miss Maddison, I assure you——” + </p> + <p> + “No,” interrupted Mr. Maddison, “it is because he does not realize the + value of time—which is considerably more valuable than admiration, I + can assure you. Since I discussed the matter with Lord Tulliwuddle's aunt + we have had several more buyers—I should say, suitors—in the + market—er—in the field, Count Bunker. But so far, fortunately + for his lordship, my Eleanor has not approved of the samples sent, and if + he still cares to come forward we shall be pleased to consider his + proposition.” + </p> + <p> + The millionaire looked at him out of an impenetrable eye; and the Count in + an equally guarded tone replied, + </p> + <p> + “I greatly approve of putting things on so sound a footing, and with equal + frankness I may tell you—in confidence, of course—that Lord + Tulliwuddle also is not without alternatives. He would, however, prefer to + offer his title and estates to Miss Maddison, provided that there is no + personal objection to be found on either side.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maddison's eye brightened and his tone warmed. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he, “I guess there won't be much objection to Eleanor Maddison + when your friend has seen her. Without exaggeration, I may say that she is + the most beautiful girl in America, and that is to say, the most beautiful + girl anywhere. The precise amount of her fortune we can discuss, supposing + the necessity arrives: but I can assure you it will be sufficient to set + three of your mortgaged British aristocrats upon their legs again. No, + sir, the objection will not come from THAT side!” + </p> + <p> + With a gentle smile and a deprecatory gesture the Count answered, “I am + convinced that Miss Maddison is all—indeed, more than all—your + eloquence has painted. On the other hand, I trust that you will not be + disappointed in my friend Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maddison crossed his legs and interlocked his fingers like a man about + to air his views. This, in fact, was what he proceeded to do. + </p> + <p> + “My opinion of aristocracies and the pampered individuals who compose them + is the opinion of an intelligent and enlightened democrat. I see them from + the vantage-ground of a man who has made his own way in the world + unhampered by ancestry, who has dwelt in a country fortunately + unencumbered by such hindrances to progress, and who has no personal + knowledge of their defects. You will admit that I speak with unusual + opportunities of forming a judgment?” + </p> + <p> + “You should have the impartiality of a missionary,” said Bunker gravely. + </p> + <p> + “That is so, sir. Now, in proposing to marry my daughter to a member of + this class, I am actuated solely by a desire to take advantage of the + opportunities such an alliance would confer. I am still perfectly clear?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” replied Bunker, with the same profound gravity. + </p> + <p> + “In consequence,” resumed the millionaire, with the impressiveness of a + logician drawing a conclusion from two irrefutable premises—“in + consequence, Count Bunker, I demand—and my daughter demands—and + my son demands, sir, that the nobleman should possess an unusual number of + high-class, fire-proof, expert-guaranteed qualities. That is only fair, + you must admit?” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you entirely.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maddison glanced at the clock and sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I have not the pleasure of knowing my neighbor, Mr. Gallosh,” he said, + resuming his brisk business tone; “but I beg you to convey to him and to + his wife and daughter my compliments—and my daughter's compliments—and + tell them that we hope they will excuse ceremony and bring Lord + Tulliwuddle to luncheon to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker expressed his readiness to carry this message, and the + millionaire even more briskly resumed— + </p> + <p> + “I shall now give myself the pleasure of presenting you to my son and + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + With his swiftest strides he escorted his distinguished guest to another + room, flung the door open, announced, “My dears, Count Bunker!” and + pressed the Count's hand even as he was effecting this introduction. + </p> + <p> + “Very pleased to have met you, Count. Good day,” he ejaculated, and + vanished on the instant. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + Raising his eyes after the profound bow which the Count considered + appropriate to his character of plenipotentiary, he beheld at last the + object of his mission; and whether or not she was the absolutely peerless + beauty her father had vaunted, he at once decided that she was lovely + enough to grace Hechnahoul, or any other, Castle. Black eyes and a mass of + coal-black hair, an ivory pale skin, small well-chiselled features, and + that distinctively American plumpness of contour—these marked her + face; while as for her figure, it was the envy of her women friends and + the distraction of all mankind who saw her. + </p> + <p> + “Fortunate Baron!” thought Bunker. + </p> + <p> + Beside her, though sufficiently in the rear to mark the relative position + of the sexes in the society they adorned, stood Darius P. Maddison, junior—or + “Ri,” in the phrase of his relatives and friends—a broad-shouldered, + well-featured young man, with keen eyes, a mouth compressed with the stern + resolve to die richer than Mr. Rockefeller, and a pair of perfectly ironed + trousers. + </p> + <p> + “I am very delighted to meet you,” declared the heiress. + </p> + <p> + “Very honored to have this pleasure,” said the brother. + </p> + <p> + “While I enjoy both sensations,” replied the Count, with his most + agreeable smile. + </p> + <p> + A little preliminary conversation ensued, in the course of which the two + parties felt an increasing satisfaction in one another's society; while + Bunker had the further pleasure of enjoying a survey of the room in which + they sat. Evidently it was Miss Maddison's peculiar sanctum, and it + revealed at once her taste and her power of gratifying it. The tapestry + that covered two sides of the room could be seen at a glance to be no mere + modern imitation, but a priceless relic of the earlier middle ages. The + other walls were so thickly hung with pictures that one could scarcely see + the pale-green satin beneath; and among these paintings the Count's + educated eye recognized the work of Raphael, Botticelli, Turner, and + Gainsborough among other masters; while beneath the cornice hung a + well-chosen selection from the gems of the modern Anglo-American school. + The chairs and sofa were upholstered in a figured satin of a slightly + richer hue of green, and on several priceless oriental tables lay + displayed in ivory, silver, crystal, and alabaster more articles of vertu + than were to be found in the entire house of an average collector. + </p> + <p> + “Fortunate Tulliwuddle!” thought Bunker. + </p> + <p> + They had been conversing on general topics for a few minutes, when Miss + Maddison turned to her brother and said, with a frankness that both + pleased and entertained the Count— + </p> + <p> + “Ri, dear, don't you think we had better come right straight to the point? + I feel sure Count Bunker is only waiting till he knows us a little better, + and I guess it will save him considerable embarrassment if we begin.” + </p> + <p> + “You are the best judge, Eleanor. I guess your notions are never far of + being all right.” + </p> + <p> + With a gratified smile Eleanor addressed the Count. + </p> + <p> + “My brother and I are affinities,” she said. “You can speak to him just as + openly as you can to me. What is fit for me to hear is fit for him.” + </p> + <p> + Assuring her that he would not hesitate to act upon this guarantee if + necessary, the Count nevertheless diplomatically suggested that he would + sooner leave it to the lady to open the discussion. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “I suppose we may presume you have called here as Lord + Tulliwuddle's friend?” + </p> + <p> + “You may, Miss Maddison.” + </p> + <p> + “And no doubt he has something pretty definite to suggest?” + </p> + <p> + “Matrimony,” smiled the Count. + </p> + <p> + Her brother threw him a stern smile of approval. + </p> + <p> + “That's right slick THERE!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle has made a very happy selection in his ambassador,” said + Eleanor, with equal cordiality. “People who are afraid to come to facts + tire me. No doubt you will think it strange and forward of me to talk in + this spirit, Count, but if you'd had to go through the worry of being an + American heiress in a European state you would sympathize. Why, I'm hardly + ever left in peace for twenty-four hours—am I, Ri?” + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” quoth Ri. + </p> + <p> + “What would you guess my age to be, Count Bunker?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-one,” suggested Bunker, subtracting two or three years on general + principles. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're nearer it than most people. Nineteen on my last birthday, + Count!” + </p> + <p> + The Count murmured his surprise and pleasure, and Ri again declared, “That + is so.” + </p> + <p> + “And it isn't the American climate that ages one, but the terrible + persecutions of the British aristocracy! I can be as romantic as any girl, + Count Bunker; why, Ri, you remember poor Abe Sellar and the stolen + shoe-lace?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess I do!” said Ri. + </p> + <p> + “That was a romance if ever there was one! But I tell you, Count, + sentiment gets rubbed off pretty quick when you come to a bankrupt Marquis + writing three ill-spelled sheets to assure me of the disinterested + affection inspired by my photograph, or a divorced Duke offering to read + Tennyson to me if I'll hire a punt!” + </p> + <p> + “I can well believe it,” said the Count sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now,” the heiress resumed, with a candid smile that made her + cynicism become her charmingly, “you see how it is. I want a man one can + RESPECT, even if he is a peer. He may have as many titles as dad has + dollars, but he must be a MAN!” + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” said Ri, with additional emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “I can guarantee Lord Tulliwuddle as a model for a sculptor and an + eligible candidate for canonization,” declared the Count. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we want something grittier than that,” said Ri. + </p> + <p> + “And what there is of it sounds almost too good news to be true,” added + his sister. “I don't want a man like a stained-glass window, Count; + because for one thing I couldn't get him.” + </p> + <p> + “If you specify your requirements we shall do our best to satisfy you,” + replied the Count imperturbably. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now,” said Eleanor thoughtfully, “I may just as well tell you that + if I'm going to take a peer—and I must own peers are rather my fancy + at present—it was Mohammedan pashas last year, wasn't it, Ri?” + (“That is so,” from Ri.)—“If I AM going to take a peer, I must have + a man that LOOKS a peer. I've been plagued with so many undersized and + round-shouldered noblemen that I'm beginning to wonder whether the + aristocracy gets proper nourishment. How tall is Lord Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + “Six feet and half an inch.” + </p> + <p> + “That's something more like!” said Ri; and his sister smiled her + acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + “And does he weigh up to it?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen, twelve, and three-quarters.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that in pounds, Ri? We don't count people in stones in America.” + </p> + <p> + A tense frown, a nervous twitching of the lip, and in an instant the young + financier produced the answer: + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred and nine pounds all but four ounces.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Eleanor, “it all depends on how he holds himself. That's a + lot to carry for a young man.” + </p> + <p> + “He holds himself like one of his native pine-trees, Miss Maddison!” + </p> + <p> + She clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Now I call that just a lovely metaphor, Count Bunker!” she cried. “Oh, if + he's going to look like a pine, and walk like the pipers at the + Torrydhulish gathering, and really be a chief like Fergus MacIvor or + Roderick Dhu, I do believe I'll actually fall in love with him!” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Count,” interposed Ri, “I guess we've heard he's half German.” + </p> + <p> + “It was indeed in Germany that he learned his thorough grasp of politics, + statesmanship, business, and finance, and acquired his lofty ambitions and + indomitable perseverance.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll do, Eleanor,” said the young man. “That's to say, if he is anything + like the prospectus.” + </p> + <p> + His sister made no immediate reply. She seemed to be musing—and not + unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + At that moment a motor car passed the window. + </p> + <p> + “My!” exclaimed Eleanor, “I'd quite forgot! That will be to take the + Honorable Stanley to the station. We must say good-by to him, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to the Count and added in explanation— + </p> + <p> + “The last to apply was the Honorable Stanley Pilkington—Lord + Didcott's heir, you know. Oh, if you could see him, you'd realize what + I've had to go through!” + </p> + <p> + Even as she spoke he was given the opportunity, for the door somewhat + diffidently opened and an unhappy-looking young man came slowly into the + room. He was clearly to be classified among the round-shouldered + ineligibles; being otherwise a tall and slender youth, with an amiable + expression and a smoothly well-bred voice. + </p> + <p> + “I've come to say good-by, Miss Maddison,” he said, with a mournful air. + “I—I've enjoyed my visit very much,” he added, as he timidly shook + her hand. + </p> + <p> + “So glad you have, Mr. Pilkington,” she replied cordially. “It has been a + very great pleasure to entertain you. Our friend Count Bunker—Mr. + Pilkington.” + </p> + <p> + The young man bowed with a look in his eye that clearly said— + </p> + <p> + “The next candidate, I perceive.” + </p> + <p> + Then having said good-by to Ri, the Count heard him murmur to Eleanor— + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't you—er—couldn't you just manage to see me off?” + </p> + <p> + “With very great pleasure!” she replied in a hearty voice that seemed + curiously enough rather to damp than cheer his drooping spirits. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had they left the room together than Darius, junior, turned + energetically to his guest, and said in a voice ringing with pride— + </p> + <p> + “You may not believe me, Count, but I assure you that is the third fellow + she has seen to the door inside a fortnight! One Duke, one Viscount—who + will expand into something more considerable some day—and this + Honorable Pilkington! Your friend, sir, will be a fortunate man if he is + able to please my sister.” + </p> + <p> + “She seems, indeed, a charming girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Charming! She is an angel in human form! And I, sir, her brother, will + see to it that she is not deceived in the man she chooses—not if I + can help it!” + </p> + <p> + The young man said this with such an air as Bunker supposed his + forefathers to have worn when they hurled the tea into Boston harbor. + </p> + <p> + “I trust that Lord Tulliwuddle, at least, will not fall under your + displeasure, sir,” he replied with an air of sincere conviction that + exactly echoed his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ri!” cried Eleanor, running back into the room, “he was so sweet as + he said good-by in the hall that I nearly kissed him! I would have, only + it might have made him foolish again. But did you see his shoulders, + Count! And oh, to think of marrying a gentle thing like that! Is Lord + Tulliwuddle a firm man, Count Bunker?” + </p> + <p> + “Adamant—when in the right,” the Count assured her. + </p> + <p> + A renewed air of happy musing in her eyes warned him that he had probably + said exactly enough, and with the happiest mean betwixt deference and + dignity he bade them farewell. + </p> + <p> + “Then, Count, we shall see you all to-morrow,” said Eleanor as they + parted. “Please tell your hosts that I am very greatly looking forward to + the pleasure of knowing them. There is a Miss Gallosh, isn't there?” + </p> + <p> + The Count informed her that there was in fact such a lady. + </p> + <p> + “That is very good news for me! I need a girl friend very badly, Count; + these proposals lose half their fun with only Ri to tell them to. I intend + to make a confidante of Miss Gallosh on the spot!” + </p> + <p> + “H'm,” thought the Count, as he drove away, “I wonder whether she will.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + As the plenipotentiary approached the Castle he was somewhat surprised to + pass a dog-cart containing not only his fellow-guest, Mr. Cromarty-Gow, + but Mr. Gow's luggage also, and although he had hitherto taken no + particular interest in that gentleman, yet being gifted with the true + adventurer's instinct for promptly investigating any unusual circumstance, + he sought his host as soon as he reached the house, with a view to putting + a careless question or two. For no one, he felt sure, had been expected to + leave for a few days to come. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Gallosh, “the young spark's off verra suddenly. We didn't + expect him to be leaving before Tuesday. But—well, the fact is—umh'm—oh, + it's nothing to speak off.” + </p> + <p> + This reticence, however, was easily cajoled away by the insidious Count, + and at last Mr. Gallosh frankly confided to him— + </p> + <p> + “Well, Count, between you and me he seems to have had a kind of fancy for + my daughter Eva, and then his lordship coming—well, you'll see for + yourself how it was.” + </p> + <p> + “He considered his chances lessened?” + </p> + <p> + “He told Rentoul they were clean gone.” + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker looked decidedly serious. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” he reflected. “The Baron is exceeding his commission. + Tulliwuddle is a brisk young fellow, but to commit him to two marriages is + neither Christian nor kind. And, without possessing the Baron's remarkable + enthusiasm for the sex, I feel sorry for whichever lady is not chosen to + cut the cake.” + </p> + <p> + He inquired for his friend, and was somewhat relieved to learn that though + he had gone out on the loch with Miss Gallosh, they had been accompanied + by her brothers and sisters. + </p> + <p> + “We still have half an hour before dressing,” he said. “I shall stroll + down and meet them.” + </p> + <p> + His creditable anxiety returned when, upon the path to the loch shore, he + met the two Masters and the two younger Misses Gallosh returning without + their sister. + </p> + <p> + “Been in different boats, have you?” said he, after they had explained + this curious circumstance; “well, I hope you all had a good sail.” + </p> + <p> + To himself he uttered a less philosophical comment, and quickened his + stride perceptibly. He reached the shore, but far or near was never a sign + of boat upon the waters. + </p> + <p> + “Have they gone down!” he thought. + </p> + <p> + Just then he became aware of a sound arising from beneath the wooded bank + a short distance away. It was evidently intended to be muffled, but the + Baron's lungs were powerful, and there was no mistaking his deep voice as + he sang— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'My loff she's like a red, red rose + Zat's newly sprong in June! + My loff she's like a melody + Zat's sveetly blayed in tune! +</pre> + <p> + Ach, how does he end?” + </p> + <p> + Before his charmer had time to prompt him, the Count raised his own + tolerably musical voice and replied— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'And fare thee weel, my second string! + And fare thee weel awhile! + I won t come back again, my love, + For tis ower mony mile! +</pre> + <p> + For an instant there followed a profound silence, and then the voice of + the Baron replied, with somewhat forced mirth— + </p> + <p> + “Vary goot, Bonker! Ha, ha! Vary goot!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Bunker, without further delay, was pushing his way through a + tangle of shrubbery till in a moment he spied the boat moored beneath the + leafy bank, and although it was a capacious craft he observed that its two + occupants were both crowded into one end. + </p> + <p> + “I am sent to escort you back to dinner,” he said blandly. + </p> + <p> + “Tell zem ve shall be back in three minutes,” replied the Baron, making a + prodigious show of preparation for coming ashore. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to say that my orders were strictly to escort, not to herald + you,” said the Count apologetically. + </p> + <p> + Fortifying himself against unpopularity by the consciousness that he was + doing his duty, this well-principled, even if spurious, nobleman paced + back towards the house with the lady between him and the indignant Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Tulliwuddle,” he discoursed, in as friendly a tone as ever, “I left + your cards with our American neighbors.” + </p> + <p> + “So?” muttered the Baron stolidly. + </p> + <p> + “They received me with open arms, and I have taken the liberty of + accepting on behalf of Mr., Mrs., and Miss Gallosh, and of our two selves, + a very cordial invitation to lunch with them to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” cried the Baron gruffly. + </p> + <p> + Eva turned a reproachful eye upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord Tulliwuddle! I should so like to go.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked at her blankly. + </p> + <p> + “You vould!” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard they are such nice people, and have such a beautiful place!” + </p> + <p> + “I can confirm both statements,” said the Count heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, papa and mamma would be very disappointed if we didn't go.” + </p> + <p> + “Make it as you please,” said the Baron gloomily. + </p> + <p> + His unsuspicious hosts heard of the invitation with such outspoken + pleasure that their honored guest could not well renew his protest. He had + to suffer the arrangement to be made; but that night when he and Bunker + withdrew to their own room, the Count perceived the makings of an + argumentative evening. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes you interfere too moch,” the Baron began without preamble. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind being a little more specific?” replied the Count with smiling + composure. + </p> + <p> + “Zere vas no hurry to lonch mit Maddison.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't name the date.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have said next veek.” + </p> + <p> + “By next week Miss Maddison may be snapped up by some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Zen vould Tollyvoddle be more lucky! I have nearly got for him ze most + charming girl, mit as moch money as he vants. Ach, you do interfere! You + should gonsider ze happiness of Tollyvoddle.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the only consideration that affects yourself, Baron?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course! I cannot marry more zan vonce.” (Bunker thought he perceived a + symptom of a sigh.) “And I most be faithful to Alicia. I most! Ach, yes, + Bonker, do not fear for me! I am so constant as—ach, I most keep + faithful!” + </p> + <p> + As he supplied this remarkable testimony to his own fidelity, the Baron + paced the floor with an agitation that clearly showed how firmly his + constancy was based. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless the Count was smiling oddly at something he espied upon the + mantelpiece, and stepping up to it he observed— + </p> + <p> + “Here is a singular phenomenon—a bunch of white heather that has got + itself tied together with ribbon!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron started, and took the tiny bouquet from his hand, his eyes + sparkling with delight. + </p> + <p> + “It must be a gift from——” he began, and then laid it down + again, though his gaze continued fixed upon it. “How did it gom in?” he + mused. “Ach! she most have brought it herself. How vary nice!” + </p> + <p> + He turned suddenly and met his friend's humorous eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be faithful, Bonker! You can trust me!” he exclaimed; “I shall + put it in my letter to Alicia, and send it mit my love! See, Bonker!” + </p> + <p> + He took a letter from his desk—its envelope still open—hurriedly + slipped in the white heather, and licked the gum while his resolution was + hot. Then, having exhibited this somewhat singular evidence of his + constancy, he sighed again. + </p> + <p> + “It vas ze only safe vay,” he said dolefully. “Vas I not right, Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite, my dear Baron,” replied the Count sympathetically. “Believe me, I + appreciate your self-sacrifice. In fact, it was to relieve the strain upon + your too generous heart that I immediately accepted Mr. Maddison's + invitation for to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” demanded the Baron with perhaps excusable surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You will be able to decide at once which is the most suitable bride for + Tulliwuddle, and then, if you like, we can leave in a day or two.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot I do not vish to leave so soon!” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, while you stay, you can at least make sure that you are + engaging the affections of the right girl.” + </p> + <p> + Though Bunker spoke with an air of desiring merely to assist his friend, + the speech seemed to arouse some furious thinking in the Baron's mind. + </p> + <p> + For some moments he made no reply, and then at last, in a troubled voice, + he said— + </p> + <p> + “I have already a leetle gommitted Tollyvoddle to Eva. Ach, bot not moch! + Still it vas a leetle. Miss Maddison—vat is she like?” + </p> + <p> + To the best of his ability the Count sketched the charms of Eleanor + Maddison—her enthusiasm for large and manly noblemen, and the + probable effects of the Baron's stalwart form set off by the tartan which + (in deference, he declared, to the Wraith's injunctions) he now invariably + wore. Also, he touched upon her father's colossal fortune, and the genuine + Tulliwuddle's necessities. + </p> + <p> + The Baron listened with growing interest. + </p> + <p> + “Vell,” he said, “I soppose I most make a goot impression for ze sake of + Tollyvoddle. For instance, ven we drive up——” + </p> + <p> + “Drive? my dear Baron, we shall march! Leave it to me; I have a very + pretty design shaping in my head.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” smiled the Baron; “my showman again, eh?” + </p> + <p> + His expression sobered, and he added as a final contribution to the debate— + </p> + <p> + “But I may tell you, Bonker, I do not eggspect to like Miss Maddison. Ah, + my instinct he is vonderful! It vas my instinct vich said. 'Chose Miss + Gallosh for Tollyvoddle!'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + While the Baron was thus loyally doing his duty, his Baroness, being + ignorant of the excellence of his purpose, and knowing only that he had + deceived her in one matter, and that the descent to Avernus is easy, + passed a number of very miserable days. That heart-breaking “us both” kept + her awake at nights and distraught throughout the day, and when for a + little she managed to explain the phrase away, and tried to anchor her + trust in Rudolph once more, the vision of the St. Petersburg window + overlooking the crops would come to shatter her confidence. She wrote a + number of passionate replies, but as the Baron in making his arrangements + with his Russian friend had forgotten to provide him with his Scotch + address, these letters only reached him after the events of this chronicle + had passed into history. Strange to say, her only consolation was that + neither her mother nor Sir Justin was able to supply any further evidence + of any kind whatsoever. One would naturally suppose that the assistance + they had gratuitously given would have made her feel eternally indebted to + them; but, on the contrary, she was actually inconsistent enough to resent + their head-shakings nearly as much as her Rudolph's presumptive + infidelity. So that her lot was indeed to be deplored. + </p> + <p> + At last a second letter came, and with trembling fingers, locked in her + room, the forsaken lady tore the curiously bulky envelope apart. Then, at + the sight of the enclosure that had given it this shape, her heart + lightened once more. + </p> + <p> + “A sprig of white heather!” she cried. “Ah, he loves me still!” + </p> + <p> + With eager eyes she next devoured the writing accompanying this token; and + as the Baron's head happened to be clearer when he composed this second + epistle, and his friend's hints peculiarly judicious, it conveyed so + plausible an account of his proceedings, and contained so many expressions + of his unaltered esteem, that his character was completely reinstated in + her regard. + </p> + <p> + Having read every affectionate sentence thrice over, and given his + exceedingly interesting statements of fact the attention they deserved, + she once more took up the little bouquet and examined it more curiously + and intently. She even untied the ribbon, when, lo and behold! there fell + a tiny and tightly folded twist of paper upon the floor. Preparing herself + for a delicious bit of sentiment, she tenderly unfolded and smoothed it + out. + </p> + <p> + “Verses!” she exclaimed rapturously; but the next instant her pleasure + gave place to a look of the extremest mystification. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + There was, in fact, some excuse for her perplexity, since the precise text + of the enclosure ran thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “TO LORD TULLIWUDDLE. + + “O Chieftain, trample on this heath + Which lies thy springing foot beneath! + It can recover from thy tread, + And once again uplift its head! + But spare, O Chief, the tenderer plant, + Because when trampled on, it can't! + “EVA.” + </pre> + <p> + Too confounded for coherent speculation, the Baroness continued to stare + at this baffling effusion. Who Lord Tulliwuddle and Eva were; why this + glimpse into their drama (for such it appeared to be) should be forwarded + to her; and where the Baron von Blitzenberg came into the story—these, + among a dozen other questions, flickered chaotically through her mind for + some minutes. Again and again she studied the cryptogram, till at last a + few definite conclusions began to crystallize out of the confusion. That + the “tenderer plant” symbolized the lady herself, that she was a person to + be regarded with extreme suspicion, and that emphatically the bouquet was + never originally intended for the Baroness von Blitzenberg, all became + settled convictions. The fact that she knew Tulliwuddle to be an existing + peerage afforded her some relief; yet the longer she pondered on the + problem of Rudolph's part in the episode, the more uneasy grew her mind. + </p> + <p> + Composing her face before the mirror till it resumed its normal round-eyed + placidity, she locked the letter and its contents in a safe place, and + sought out her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Did you get any letter, dear, by the last post?” inquired the Countess as + soon as she had entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of importance, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + That so sweet and docile a daughter should stoop to deceit was + inconceivable. The Countess merely frowned her disappointment and resumed + the novel which she was beguiling the hours between eating and eating + again. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” said the Baroness presently, “can you tell me whether heather is + found in many other European countries?” + </p> + <p> + The Countess raised her firmly penciled eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “In some, I believe. What a remarkable question, Alicia.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking about Russia,” said Alicia with an innocent air. “Do you + suppose heather grows there?” + </p> + <p> + The Countess remembered the floral symptoms displayed by Ophelia, and grew + a trifle nervous. + </p> + <p> + “My child, what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing,” replied Alicia hastily. + </p> + <p> + A short silence followed, during which she was conscious of undergoing a + curious scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, mamma,” she found courage to ask at length, “do you know + anything about Lord Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Grillyer continued uneasy. These irrelevant questions undoubtedly + indicated a mind unhinged. + </p> + <p> + “I was acquainted with the late Lord Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is dead, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + Alicia's face clouded for a moment, and then a ray of hope lit it again. + </p> + <p> + “Is there a present Lord Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so. Why do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard some one speak of him the other day.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke so naturally that her mother began to feel relieved. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Justin Wallingford can tell you all about the family, if you are + curious,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Justin!” + </p> + <p> + Alicia recoiled from the thought of him. But presently her curiosity + prevailed, and she inquired— + </p> + <p> + “Does he know them well?” + </p> + <p> + “He inherited a place in Scotland a number of years ago, you remember. It + is somewhere near Lord Tulliwuddle's place—Hech—Hech—Hech-something-or-other + Castle. He was very well acquainted with the last Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Alicia indifferently, “I am not really interested. It was mere + idle curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + For the greater part of twenty-four hours she kept this mystery locked + within her heart, till at last she could contain it no longer. The + resolution she came to was both desperate and abruptly taken. At five + minutes to three she was resolved to die rather than mention that sprig of + heather to a soul; at five minutes past she was on her way to Sir Justin + Wallingford's house. + </p> + <p> + “It may be going behind mamma's back,” she said to herself; “but she went + behind mine when SHE consulted Sir Justin.” + </p> + <p> + It was probably in consequence of her urgent voice and agitated manner + that she came to be shown straight into Sir Justin's library, without + warning on either side, and thus surprised her counsellor in the act of + softly singing a well-known hymn to the accompaniment of a small + harmonium. He seemed for a moment to be a trifle embarrassed, and the + glance he threw at his footman appeared to indicate an early vacancy in + his establishment; but as soon as he had recovered his customary solemnity + his explanation reflected nothing but credit upon his character. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is,” said he, “that I am shortly going to rejoin my daughter in + Scotland. You are aware of her disposition, Baroness?” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard that she is inclined to be devotional.” + </p> + <p> + “She is devotional,” answered this excellent man. “I have taken + considerable pains to see to it. As your mother and I have often agreed, + there is no such safeguard for a young girl as a hobby or mania of this + sort.” + </p> + <p> + “A hobby or mania?” exclaimed the Baroness in a pained voice. + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin looked annoyed. He was evidently surprised to find that the + principles inculcated by his old friend and himself appeared to outlive + the occasion for which they were intended—to wit, the protection of + virgin hearts from undesirable aspirations till calm reason and a husband + should render them unnecessary. + </p> + <p> + “I use the terms employed by the philosophical,” he hastened to explain; + “but my own opinion is inclined to coincide with yours, my dear Alicia.” + </p> + <p> + This paternal use of her Christian name, coupled with the kindly tone of + his justification, encouraged the Baroness to open her business. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Justin,” she began, “can I trust you—may I ask you not to tell + my mother that I have visited you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you can show me an adequate reason, you may rely upon my discretion,” + said the ex-diplomatist cautiously, yet with an encouraging smile. + </p> + <p> + “In some things one would sooner confide in a man than a woman, Sir + Justin.” + </p> + <p> + “That is undoubtedly true,” he agreed cordially. “You may confide in me, + Baroness.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard from my husband again. I need not show you the letter; it is + quite satisfactory—oh, quite, I assure you! Only I found this + enclosed with it.” + </p> + <p> + In breathless silence she watched him examine critically first the heather + and then the verses. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle!” he exclaimed. “Is there anything in the Baron's letter + to throw any light upon this?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one word—not the slightest hint.” + </p> + <p> + Again he studied the paper. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what does it mean?” she cried. “I came to you because you know all + about the Tulliwuddles. Where is Lord Tulliwuddle now?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not acquainted with the present peer,” he ansevered meditatively. + “In fact, I know singularly little about him. I did hear—yes, I + heard from my daughter some rumor that he was shortly expected to visit + his place in Scotland; but whether he went there or not I cannot say.” + </p> + <p> + “You can find out for me?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall lose no time in ascertaining.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness thanked him effusively, and rose to depart with a mind a + little comforted. + </p> + <p> + “And you won't tell mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “I never tell a woman anything that is of any importance.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness was confirmed in her opinion that Sir Justin was not a very + nice man, but she felt an increased confidence in his judgment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + From the gargoyled keep which the cultured enthusiasm of Eleanor and the + purse of her father had recently erected at Lincoln Lodge, the brother and + sister looked over a bend of the river, half a mile of valley road, a wave + of forest country, and the greater billows of the bare hillsides towering + beyond. But out of all this prospect it was only upon the stretch of road + that their eyes were bent. + </p> + <p> + “Surely one should see their carriage soon!” exclaimed Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me,” said her brother, “that you're sitting something like a cat + on the pounce for this Tulliwuddle fellow. Why, Eleanor, I never saw you + so excited since the first duke came along. I thought that had passed + right off.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ri, I was reading 'Waverley' again last night, and somehow I felt the + top of the keep was the only place to watch for a chief!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you don't expect him to be different from other people?” + </p> + <p> + “Ri! I tell you I'll cry if he looks like any one I've ever seen before! + Don't you remember the Count said he moved like a pine in his native + forests?” + </p> + <p> + “He won't make much headway like that,” said Ri incisively. “I'd sooner he + moved like something more spry than a tree. I guess that Count was talking + through his hat.” + </p> + <p> + But his sister was not to be argued out of her exalted mood by such + prosaic reasoning. She exclaimed at his sluggish imagination, reiterated + her faith in the insinuating count's assurances, and was only withheld + from sending her brother down for a spy-glass by the reflection that she + could not remember reading of its employment by any maiden in analogous + circumstances. + </p> + <p> + It was at this auspicious moment, when the heart of the expectant heiress + was inflamed with romantic fancies and excited with the suspense of + waiting, and before it had time to cool through any undue delay, that a + little cloud of dust first caught her straining eyes. + </p> + <p> + “He comes at last!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + At the same instant the faint strains of the pibroch were gently wafted to + her embattled tower. + </p> + <p> + “He is bringing his piper! Oh, what a duck he is!” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me he is bringing a dozen of them,” observed Ri. + </p> + <p> + “And look, Ri! The sun is glinting upon steel! Claymores, Ri! oh, how + heavenly! There must be fifty men! And they are still coming! I do believe + he has brought the whole clan!” + </p> + <p> + Too petrified with delight to utter another exclamation, she watched in + breathless silence the approach of a procession more formidable than had + ever escorted a Tulliwuddle since the year of Culloden. As they drew + nearer, her ardent gaze easily distinguished a stalwart figure in plaid + and kilt, armed to the teeth with target and claymore, marching with a + stately stride fully ten paces before his retinue. + </p> + <p> + “The chief!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + Now indeed she saw there was no cause to mourn, for any one at all + resembling the Baron von Blitzenberg as he appeared at that moment she had + certainly never met before. Intoxicated with his finery and with the + terrific peals of melody behind him, he pranced rather than walked up to + the portals of Lincoln Lodge, and there, to the amazement and admiration + alike of his clansmen and his expectant host, he burst forth into the + following Celtic fragment, translated into English for the occasion by his + assiduous friend from a hitherto undiscovered manuscript of Ossian: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I am ze chieftain, + Nursed in ze mountains, + Behold me, Mac—ig—ig—ig ish! +</pre> + <p> + (Yet the Count had written this word very distinctly.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oich for ze claymore! + Hoch for ze philabeg! + Sons of ze red deers, + Children of eagles, + I will supply you + Mit Sassenach carcases!” + </pre> + <p> + At this point came a momentary lull, the chieftain's eyes rolling + bloodthirstily, but the rhapsody having apparently become congested within + his fiery heart. His audience, however, were not given time to recover + their senses, before a striking-looking individual, adorned with tartan + trews and a feathered hat, in whom all were pleased to recognize Count + Bunker, whispered briefly in his lordship's ear, and like a river in spate + he foamed on: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Donald and Ronald + Avake from your slumbers! + Maiden so lovely, + Smile mit your bright eyes! + Ze heather is blooming! + Ze vild cat is growling! + Hech Dummeldirroch! + Behold Tollyvoddle, + Ze Lord of ze Mountains!” + </pre> + <p> + Hardly had the reverberations of the chieftain's voice died away, when the + Count, uttering a series of presumably Gaelic cries, advanced with the + most dramatic air, and threw his broad-sword upon the ground. The Baron + laid his across it, the pipes struck up a less formidable, but if anything + more exciting air, and the two noblemen, springing simultaneously from the + ground, began what the Count confidently trusted their American hosts + would accept as the national sworddance. + </p> + <p> + This lasted for some considerable time, and gave the Count an opportunity + of testifying his remarkable agility and the Baron of displaying the + greater part of his generously proportioned limbs, while the lung power of + both became from that moment proverbial in the glen. + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion of this ceremony the chieftain, crimson, breathless, and + radiant, a sight for gods and ladies, advanced to greet his host. + </p> + <p> + “Very happy to see you, Lord Tulliwuddle,” said Mr. Maddison. “Allow me to + offer you my very sincere congratulations on your exceedingly interesting + exhibition. Welcome to Lincoln Lodge, your lordship! My daughter—my + son.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor, almost as flushed as the Baron by her headlong rush from the keep + at the conclusion of the sword-dance, threw him such a smile as none of + her admirers had ever enjoyed before; while he, incapable of speech beyond + a gasped “Ach!” bowed so low that the Count had gently to adjust his kilt. + Then followed the approach of the Gallosh family, attired in costumes of + Harris tweed and tartan selected and arranged under the artistic eye of + Count Bunker, and escorted, to their huge delight, by six picked clansmen. + Their formal presentation having been completed by a last skirl on the + bagpipes, the whole party moved in procession to the banqueting-hall. + </p> + <p> + “A complete success, I flatter myself,” thought Count Bunker, with + excusable complacency. + </p> + <p> + To the banquet itself it is scarcely possible for a mere mortal historian + to pay a fitting tribute. Every rarity known to the gourmet that telegraph + could summon to the table in time was served in course upon course. Even + the sweetmeats in the little gold dishes cost on an average a dollar a + bon-bon, while the wine was hardly less valuable than liquid radium. Or at + least such was the sworn information subsequently supplied by Count Bunker + to the reporter of “The Torrydhulish Herald.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor was in her highest spirits. She sat between the Baron and Mr. + Gallosh, delighted with the honest pleasure and admiration of the + merchant, and all the time becoming more satisfied with the demeanor and + conversation of the chief. In fact, the only disappointment she felt was + connected with the appearance of Miss Gallosh. Much as she had desired a + confidante, she had never demanded one so remarkably beautiful, and she + could not but feel that a very much plainer friend would have served her + purpose quite as well—and indeed better. Once or twice she + intercepted a glance passing between this superfluously handsome lady and + the principal guest, until at last it occurred to her as a strange and + unseemly thing that Lord Tulliwuddle should be paying so long a visit to + his shooting tenants. Eva, on her part, felt a curiously similar + sensation. These American gentlemen were as pleasant as report had painted + them, but she now discovered an odd antipathy to American women, or at + least to their unabashed method of making themselves agreeable to + noblemen. It confirmed, indeed, the worst reports she had heard concerning + the way in which they raided the British marriage market. + </p> + <p> + Being placed beside one of these lovely girls and opposite the other, the + Baron, one would think, would be in the highest state of contentment; but + though still flushed with his triumphant caperings over the broadswords, + and exhibiting a graciousness that charmed his hosts, he struck his + observant friend as looking a trifle disturbed at soul. He would furtively + glance across the table and then as furtively throw a sidelong look at his + neighbor, and each time he appeared to grow more thoughtful. And yet he + did not look precisely unhappy either. In fact, there was a gleam in his + eye during each of these glances which suggested that both fell upon + something he approved of. + </p> + <p> + The after-luncheon procedure had been carefully arranged between the two + adventurers. The Count was to keep by the Baron's side, and, thus + supported, negotiations were to be delicately opened. Accordingly, when + the party rose, the Count whispered a word in Mr. Maddison's ear. The + millionaire answered with a grave, shrewd look, and his daughter, as if + perfectly grasping the situation, led the Galloshes out to inspect the new + fir forest. And then the two noblemen and the two Dariuses faced one + another over their cigars. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” said Mr. Maddison, “pleasure is pleasure, and business + is business. I guess we mean to do a little of both to-day, if you are + perfectly disposed. What do you say, Count?” + </p> + <p> + “I consider that an occasion selected by you, Mr. Maddison, is not to be + neglected.” + </p> + <p> + The millionaire bowed his acknowledgment of the compliment, and turned to + the Baron, who, it may be remarked, was wearing an expression of + thoughtful gravity not frequently to be noted at Hechnahoul. + </p> + <p> + “You desire to say a few words to me, Lord Tulliwuddle, I understand. I + shall be pleased to hear them.” + </p> + <p> + With this both father and son bent such earnest brows on the Baron and + waited for his answer in such intense silence, that he began to regret the + absence of his inspiring pipers. + </p> + <p> + “I vould like ze honor to address mine—mine——” + </p> + <p> + He threw an imploring glance at his friend, who, without hesitation, threw + himself into the breach. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle feels the natural diffidence of a lover in adequately + expressing his sentiments. I understand that he craves your permission to + lay a certain case before a certain lady. I am right, Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + “Pairfectly,” said the Baron, much relieved; “to lay a certain case before + a certain lady. Zat is so, yes, exactly.” + </p> + <p> + Father and son glanced at one another. + </p> + <p> + “Your delicacy does you honor, very great honor,” said Mr. Maddison; “but + business is business, Lord Tulliwuddle, and I should like to hear your + proposition more precisely stated. In fact, sir, I like to know just where + I am.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just about right,” assented Ri. + </p> + <p> + “I vould perhaps vish to marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps!” exclaimed the two together. + </p> + <p> + Again the Count adroitly interposed— + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you do not intend to thrust your attentions upon an + unwilling lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; zat is vat I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Mr. Maddison slowly. “H'm, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Sounds what you Scotch call 'canny,'” commented Ri shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” resumed the millionaire, “I have nothing to say against that; + provided—provided, I say, that you stipulate to marry the lady so + long as she has no objections to you. No fooling around—that's all + we want to see to. Our time, sir, is too valuable.” + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” said Ri. + </p> + <p> + The Baron's color rose, and a look of displeasure came into his eyes, but + before he had time to make a retort that might have wrecked his original's + hopes, Bunker said quickly— + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle places himself in your hands, with the implicit confidence + that one gentleman reposes in another.” + </p> + <p> + Gulping down his annoyance, the Baron assented— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I vill do zat.” + </p> + <p> + Again father and son looked at one another, and this time exchanged a nod. + </p> + <p> + “That, sir, will satisfy us,” said Mr. Maddison. “Ri, you may turn off the + phonograph.” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon the cessation of a loud buzzing sound, which the visitors + had hitherto attributed to flies, showed that their host now considered he + had received a sufficient guarantee of his lordship's honorable + intentions. + </p> + <p> + “So far, so good,” resumed Mr. Maddison. “I may now inform you, Lord + Tulliwuddle, that the reports about you which I have been able to gather + read kind of mixed, and before consenting to your reception within my + daughter's boudoir we should feel obliged if you would satisfy us that the + worst of them are not true—or, at least, sir, exaggerated.” + </p> + <p> + This time the Baron could not restrain an exclamation of displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “Vat, sir!” he cried, addressing the millionaire. “Do you examine me on my + life!” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Ri, frowning his most determined frown. “It is to ME you + will be kind enough to give any explanation you have to offer! Dad may be + the spokesman, but I am the inspirer of these interrogations. My sister, + sir, the purest girl in America, the most beautiful creature beneath the + star-spangled banner of Columbia, is not going to be the companion of + dissolute idleness and gilded dishonor—not, sir, if <i>I</i> know + it.” + </p> + <p> + Too confounded by this unusual warning to think of any adequate retort, + the Baron could only stare his sensations; while Mr. Maddison, taking up + the conversation the instant his son had ceased, proceeded in a deliberate + and impressive voice to say— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, my son—and I associate myself with him—my son and + I, sir, would be happy to learn that it is NOT the case as here stated” + (he glanced at a paper in his hand), “namely, Item 1, that you sup rather + too frequently with ladies—I beg your pardon, Count Bunker, for + introducing the theme—with ladies of the theatrical profession.” + </p> + <p> + “I!” gasped the Baron. “I do only vish I sometimes had ze cha——” + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle!” interrupted the Count. “Don't let your natural indignation + carry you away! Mr. Maddison, that statement is not true. I can vouch for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, of course it is not true,” said the Baron more calmly, as he began + to realize that it was not his own character that was being aspersed. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to hear it,” continued Mr. Maddison, who apparently did + not share the full austerity of his son's views, since without further + question he hurried on to the next point. + </p> + <p> + “Item 2, sir, states that at least two West End firms are threatening you + with proceedings if you do not discharge their accounts within a + reasonable time.” + </p> + <p> + “A lie!” declared the Baron emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be so kind as to favor us with the name of the individual who is + thus libelling his lordship?” demanded the Count with a serious air. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maddison hastily put the paper back in his pocket, and with a glance + checked his son's gesture of protest. + </p> + <p> + “Guess we'd better pass on to the next thing, Ri. I told you it wasn't any + darned use just asking. But you boys always think you know better than + your Poppas,” said he; and then, turning to the Count, “It isn't worth + while troubling, Count; I'll see that these reports get contradicted, if I + have to buy up a daily paper and issue it at a halfpenny. Yes, sir, you + can leave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + The Count glanced at his friend, and they exchanged a grave look. + </p> + <p> + “Again we place ourselves in your hands,” said Bunker. + </p> + <p> + Though considerably impressed with these repeated evidences of confidence + on the part of two such important personages, their host nevertheless + maintained something of his inquisitorial air as he proceeded— + </p> + <p> + “For my own satisfaction, Lord Tulliwuddle, and meaning to convey no + aspersion whatsoever upon your character, I would venture to inquire what + are your views upon some of the current topics. Take any one you like, + sir, so long as it's good and solid, and let me hear what you have to say + about it. What you favor us with will not be repeated beyond this room, + but merely regarded by my son and myself as proving that we are getting no + dunder-headed dandy for our Eleanor, but an article of real substantial + value—the kind of thing they might make into a Lord-lieutenant or a + Viceroy in a bad year.” + </p> + <p> + Tempting in every way as this suggestion sounded, his lordship + nevertheless appeared to find a little initial difficulty in choosing a + topic. + </p> + <p> + “Speak out, sir,” said Mr. Maddison in an encouraging tone. “Our standard + for noblemen isn't anything remarkably high. With a duke I'd be content + with just a few dates and something about model cottages, and, though a + baron ought to know a little more than that, still we'll count these + feudal bagpipers and that ancestral hop-scotch performance as a kind of + set-off to your credit. Suppose you just say a few words on the future of + the Anglo-Saxon race. What you've learned from the papers will do, so long + as you seem to understand it.” + </p> + <p> + Perceiving that his Teutonic friend looked a trifle dismayed at this + selection, Count Bunker suggested the Triple Alliance as an alternative. + </p> + <p> + “That needs more facts, I guess,” said the millionaire; “but it will be + all the more creditable if you can manage it.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron cleared his throat to begin, and as he happened (as the Count + was well aware) to have the greatest enthusiasm for this policy, and to + have recently read the thirteen volumes of Professor Bungstrumpher on the + subject, he delivered a peroration so remarkable alike for its fervor, its + facts, and its phenomenal length, that when, upon a gentle hint from the + Count, he at last paused, all traces of objection had vanished from the + minds of Darius P. Maddison, senior and junior. + </p> + <p> + “I need no longer detain you, Lord Tulliwuddle,” said the millionaire + respectfully. “Ri, fetch your sister into her room. Your lordship, I have + received an intellectual treat. I am very deeply gratified, sir. Allow me + to conduct you to my daughter's boudoir.” + </p> + <p> + Flushed with his exertions and his triumph though the Baron was, he yet + remembered so vividly the ordeal preceding the oration that as they went + he whispered in his friend's ear: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Bonker, stay mit me, I pray you! If she should ask more questions! + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Maddison, ze Count will stay mit me.” + </p> + <p> + Though a little surprised at this arrangement, which scarcely accorded + with his lordship's virile appearance and dashing air, Mr. Maddison was by + this time too favorably disposed to question the wisdom of any suggestion + he might make, and accordingly the two friends found themselves closeted + together in Miss Maddison's sanctum awaiting the appearance of the + heiress. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I remain through the entire interview?” asked the Count. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, mine Bonker, you most! Or—vell, soppose it gets unnecessary + zen vill I cry 'By ze Gad!' and you vill know to go.” + </p> + <p> + “'By the Gad'? I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Or—vell, not ze first time, but if I say it tree times, zen vill + you make an excuse.” + </p> + <p> + “Three times? I understand, Baron.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + In the eye of the heiress, as in her father's, might be noted a shade of + surprise at finding two gentlemen instead of one. But though the Count + instantly perceived his superfluity, and though it had been his greatest + ambition throughout his life to add no shade to the dullness with which he + frequently complained that life was overburdened, yet his sense of + obligation to his friend was so strong that he preferred to bore rather + than desert. As the only compensation he could offer, he assumed the most + retiring look of which his mobile features were capable, and pretended to + examine one of the tables of curios. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle, I congratulate you on the very happy impression you + have made!” began Eleanor with the most delightful frankness. + </p> + <p> + But his lordship had learned to fear the Americans, even bearing + compliments. + </p> + <p> + “So?” he answered stolidly. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you have! Ri is just wild about your cleverness.” + </p> + <p> + “Zat is kind of him.” + </p> + <p> + “He declares you are quite an authority on European politics. Now you will + be able to tell me——” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, no! I shall not to-day, please!” interrupted the Baron hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + The heiress seemed disconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not if you'd rather not, Lord Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” + </p> + <p> + She turned with a shrug and cast her eyes upon the wall. + </p> + <p> + “How do you like this picture? It's my latest toy. I call it just sweet!” + </p> + <p> + He cautiously examined the painting. + </p> + <p> + “It is vary pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know Romney's work?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “Not again to-day, please!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Maddison opened her handsome eyes to their widest. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” she cried. “If these are Highland manners, Lord Tulliwuddle!” + </p> + <p> + In extreme confusion the Baron stammered— + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon! Forgif me—but—ach, not zose questions, + please!” + </p> + <p> + Relenting a little, she inquired + </p> + <p> + “What may I ask you, then? Do tell me! You see I want just to know all + about you.” + </p> + <p> + With an affrighted gesture the Baron turned to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Bonker,” said he, “she does vant to know yet more about me! Vill you + please to tell her.” + </p> + <p> + The Count looked up from the curios with an expression so bland that the + air began to clear even before he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Maddison, I must explain that my friend's proud Highland spirit has + been a little disturbed by some inquiries, made in all good faith by your + father. No offence, I am certain, was intended; erroneous information—a + little hastiness in jumping to conclusions—a sensitive nature + wounded by the least insinuation—such were the unfortunate causes of + Tulliwuddle's excusable reticence. Believe me, if you knew all, your + opinion of him would alter very, very considerably!” + </p> + <p> + The perfectly accurate peroration to this statement produced an immediate + effect. + </p> + <p> + “What a shame!” cried Eleanor, her eyes sparkling brightly. “Lord + Tulliwuddle, I am so sorry!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron looked into these eyes, and his own mien altered perceptibly. + For an instant he gazed, and then in a low voice remarked— + </p> + <p> + “By ze Gad!” + </p> + <p> + “Once!” counted the conscientious Bunker. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tulliwuddle,” she continued, “I declare I feel so ashamed of those + stupid men, I could just wring their necks! Now, just to make us quits, + you ask me anything in the world you like!” + </p> + <p> + Over his shoulder the Baron threw a stealthy glance at his friend, but + this time he did not invoke his assistance. Instead, he again murmured + very distinctly— + </p> + <p> + “By ze Gad!” + </p> + <p> + “Twice!” counted Bunker. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Maddison,” said the Baron to the flushed and eager girl, “am I to + onderstand zat you now are satisfied zat I am not too vicked, too + suspeecious, too unvorthy of your charming society? I do not say I am yet + vorthy—bot jost not too bad!” + </p> + <p> + Had the Baroness at that moment heard merely the intonation of his voice, + she would undoubtedly have preferred a Chinese prison. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Lord Tulliwuddle, you may.” + </p> + <p> + “By ze Gad!” announced the Baron, in a voice braced with resolution. + </p> + <p> + “May I take the liberty of inspecting the aviary?” said the Count. + </p> + <p> + “With the very greatest pleasure,” replied the heiress kindly. + </p> + <p> + His last distinct impression as he withdrew was of the Baron giving his + mustache a more formidable twirl. + </p> + <p> + “A very pretty little scene,” he reflected, as he strolled out in search + of others. “Though, hang me, I'm not sure if it ended in the right man + leaving the stage!” + </p> + <p> + This “second-fiddle feeling,” as he styled it humorously to himself, was + further increased by the demeanor of Miss Gallosh, to whom he now + endeavored to make himself agreeable. Though sharing the universal respect + felt for the character and talents of the Count, she was evidently too + perturbed at seeing him appear alone to appreciate his society as it + deserved. Ever since luncheon poor Eva's heart had been sinking. The + beauty, the assurance, the cleverness, and the charm of the fabulously + wealthy American heiress had filled her with vague misgivings even while + the gentlemen were safely absent; but when Miss Maddison was summoned + away, and her father and brother took her place, her uneasiness vastly + increased. Now here was the last buffer removed between the chieftain and + her audacious rival (so she already counted her). What drama could these + mysterious movements have been leading to? + </p> + <p> + In vain did Count Bunker exercise his unique powers of conversation. In + vain did he discourse on the beauties of nature as displayed in the wooded + valley and the towering hills, and the beauties of art as exhibited in the + aviary and the new fir forest. Eva's thoughts were too much engrossed with + the beauties of woman, and their dreadful consequences if improperly used. + </p> + <p> + “Is—is Miss Maddison still in the house?” she inquired, with an + effort to put the question carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “I believe so,” said the Count in his kindest voice. + </p> + <p> + “And—and—that isn't Lord Tulliwuddle with my father, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe not,” said the Count, still more sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + She could no longer withhold a sigh, and the Count tactfully turned the + conversation to the symbolical eagle arrived that morning from Mr. + Maddison's native State. + </p> + <p> + They had passed from the aviary to the flower garden, when at last they + saw the Baron and Eleanor appear. She joined the rest of the party, while + he, walking thoughtfully in search of his friend, advanced in their + direction. He raised his eyes, and then, to complete Eva's concern, he + started in evident embarrassment at discovering her there also. To do him + justice, he quickly recovered his usual politeness. Yet she noticed that + he detained the Count beside him and showed a curious tendency to + discourse solely on the fine quality of the gravel and the advantages of + having a brick facing to a garden wall. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” said Mr. Gallosh, approaching them, “would you be thinking of + going soon? I've noticed Mr. Maddison's been taking out his watch verra + frequently.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, certainly!” cried my lord. “Oh, ve have finished all ve have + come for.” + </p> + <p> + Eva started, and even Mr. Gallosh looked a trifle perturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” added the Count quickly, “we have a very good idea of the heating + system employed. I quite agree with you: we can leave the rest to your + engineer.” + </p> + <p> + But even his readiness failed to efface the effects of his friend's + unfortunate admission. + </p> + <p> + Farewells were said, the procession reformed, the pipers struck up, and + amidst the heartiest expressions of pleasure from all, the chieftain and + his friends marched off to the spot where (out of sight of Lincoln Lodge) + the forethought of their manager had arranged that the carriages should be + waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Bunker, when they found themselves in their room again, “what + do you think of Miss Maddison?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron lit a cigar, gazed thoughtfully and with evident satisfaction at + the daily deepening shade of tan upon his knees, and then answered slowly— + </p> + <p> + “Vell, Bonker, she is not so bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” commented Bunker. + </p> + <p> + “Bot, Bonker, it is not vat I do think of her. Ach, no! It is not for mein + own pleasure. Ach, nein! How shall I do my duty to Tollyvoddle? Zat is vat + I ask myself.” + </p> + <p> + “And what answer do you generally return?” + </p> + <p> + “Ze answer I make is,” said the Baron gravely and with the deliberation + the point deserved—“Ze answer is zat I shall vait and gonsider vich + lady is ze best for him.” + </p> + <p> + “The means you employ will no doubt include a further short personal + interview with each of them?” + </p> + <p> + “Vun short! Ach, Bonker, I most investigate mit carefulness. No, no; I + most see zem more zan zat.” + </p> + <p> + “How long do you expect the process will take you?” + </p> + <p> + For the first time the Baron noticed with surprise a shade of impatience + in his friend's voice. + </p> + <p> + “Are you in a horry, Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron, I grudge no man his sport—particularly if he is + careful to label it his duty. But, to tell the truth, I have never played + gamekeeper for so long before, and I begin to find that picking up your + victims and carrying them after you in a bag is less exhilarating to-day + than it was a week ago. I wouldn't curtail your pleasure for the world, my + dear fellow! But I do ask you to remember the poor keeper.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend,” said the Baron cordially, “I shall remember! It shall + take bot two or tree days to do my duty. I shall not be long.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A day or two of sober duty, + Then, Hoch! for London, home, and beauty!” + </pre> + <p> + trolled the Count pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + The Baron did not echo the “Hoch”; but after retaining his thoughtful + expression for a few moments, a smile stole over his face, and he remarked + in an absent voice— + </p> + <p> + “Vun does not alvays need to go home to find beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the Count, “I have always held it to be one of the advantages + of travel that one learns to tolerate the inhabitants of other lands.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + “Ach, you are onfair,” exclaimed the Baron. “Really?” said Eva, with a + sarcastic intonation he had not believed possible in so sweet a voice. + </p> + <p> + It was the day following the luncheon at Lincoln Lodge, and they were once + more seated in the shady arbor: this time the Count had guaranteed not + only to leave them uninterrupted by his own presence, but to protect the + garden from all other intruders. Everything, in fact, had presaged the + pleasantest of tete-a-tetes. But, alas! the Baron was learning that if + Amaryllis pouts, the shadiest corner may prove too warm. Why, he was + asking himself, should she exhibit this incomprehensible annoyance? What + had he done? How to awake her smiles again? + </p> + <p> + “I do not forget my old friends so quickly,” he protested. “No, I do + assure you! I do not onderstand vy you should say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we don't profess to be old FRIENDS, Lord Tulliwuddle! After all, + there is no reason why you shouldn't turn your back on us as soon as you + see a newer—and more amusing—ACQUAINTANCE.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have not turned my back!” + </p> + <p> + “We saw nothing else all yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Mees Gallosh, zat is not true! Often did I look at you!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you? I had forgotten. One doesn't treasure every glance, you know.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron tugged at his mustache and frowned. + </p> + <p> + “She vill not do for Tollyvoddle,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + But the next instant a glance from Eva's brilliant eyes—a glance so + reproachful, so appealing, and so stimulating, that there was no resisting + it—diverted his reflections into quite another channel. + </p> + <p> + “Vat can I do to prove zat I am so friendly as ever?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “So FRIENDLY?” she repeated, with an innocently meditative air. + </p> + <p> + “So vary parteecularly friendly!” + </p> + <p> + Her air relented a little—just enough, in fact, to make him ardently + desire to see it relent still further. + </p> + <p> + “You promise things to me, and then do them for other people's benefit.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron eagerly demanded a fuller statement of this abominable charge. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “you told me twenty times you would show me something + really Highland—that you'd kill a deer by torchlight, or hold a + gathering of the clans upon the castle lawn. All sorts of things you + offered to do for me, and the only thing you have done has been for the + sake of your NEW friends! You gave THEM a procession and a dance.” + </p> + <p> + “But you did see it too!” he interrupted eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “As part of your procession,” she retorted scornfully. “We felt much + obliged to you—especially as you were so attentive to us + afterwards!” + </p> + <p> + “I did not mean to leave you,” exclaimed the Baron weakly. “It was jost + zat Miss Maddison——” + </p> + <p> + “I am not interested in Miss Maddison. No doubt she is very charming; but, + really, she doesn't interest me at all. You were unavoidably prevented + from talking to us—that is quite sufficient for me. I excuse you, + Lord Tulliwuddle. Only, please, don't make me any more promises.” + </p> + <p> + “Eva! Ach, I most say 'Eva' jost vunce more! I am going to leave my + castle, to leave you, and say good-by.” + </p> + <p> + She started and looked quickly at him. + </p> + <p> + “Bot before I go I shall keep my promise! Ve shall have ze pipers, and ze + kilts, and ze dancing, and toss ze caber, and fling ze hammer, and it + shall be on ze castle lawn, and all for your sake! Vill you not forgive me + and be friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Will it really be all for my sake?” + </p> + <p> + She spoke incredulously, yet looked as if she were willing to be + convinced. + </p> + <p> + “I swear it vill!” + </p> + <p> + The latter part of this interview was so much more agreeable than the + beginning that when the distant rumble of the luncheon gong brought it to + an end at last they sighed, and for fully half a minute lingered still in + silence. If one may dare to express in crude language a maiden's unspoken, + formless thought, Eva's might be read—“There is yet a moment left + for him to say the three short words that seem to hang upon his tongue!” + While on his part he was reflecting that he had another duologue arranged + for that very afternoon, and that, for the simultaneous suitor of two + ladies, an open mind was almost indispensable. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are going for a drive with the Count Bunker this afternoon?” she + asked, as they strolled slowly towards the house. + </p> + <p> + “For a leetle tour in my estate,” he answered easily. + </p> + <p> + “On business, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, vorse luck!” + </p> + <p> + He knew not whether to feel more relieved or embarrassed to find that he + evidently rose in her estimation as a conscientious landlord. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + “You are having a capital day's sport, Baron,” said the Count gaily, as + they drew near Lincoln Lodge. + </p> + <p> + During their drive the Baron had remained unusually silent. He now roused + himself and said in a guarded whisper— + </p> + <p> + “Bonker, vill you please to give ze coachman some money not to say jost + vere he did drive us.” + </p> + <p> + “I have done so,” smiled the Count. + </p> + <p> + His friend gratefully grasped his hand and curled his mustache with an + emboldened air. + </p> + <p> + A similar display of address on the part of Count Bunker resulted in the + Baron's finding himself some ten minutes later alone with Miss Maddison in + her sanctuary. But, to his great surprise, he was greeted with none of the + encouraging cordiality that had so charmed him yesterday. The lady was + brief in her responses, critical in her tone, and evidently disposed to + quarrel with her admirer on some ground at present entirely mysterious. + Indeed, so discouraging was she that at length he exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Miss Maddison—I should not have gom to-day? You did not + vish to see me. Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly was perfectly comfortable without you, Lord Tulliwuddle,” + said the heiress tartly. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I go avay?” + </p> + <p> + “You have come here entirely for your own pleasure; and the moment you + begin to feel tired there is nothing to hinder you going home again.” + </p> + <p> + “You vere more kind to me yesterday,” said the Baron sadly. + </p> + <p> + “I did not learn till after you had gone how much I was to blame for + keeping you so long away from your friends. Please do not think I shall + repeat the offence.” + </p> + <p> + There was an accent on the word “friends” that enlightened the bewildered + nobleman, even though quickness in taking a hint was not his most + conspicuous attribute. That the voice of gossip had reached the fair + American was only too evident; but though considerably annoyed, he could + not help feeling at the same time flattered to see the concern he was able + to inspire. + </p> + <p> + “My friends!” said he with amorous artfulness. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean Count Bunker? He is ze only FRIEND I have here mit me.” + </p> + <p> + “The ONLY friend? Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Zat is since I see you vill not treat me as soch.” + </p> + <p> + Upon these lines a pretty little passage-of-arms ensued, the Baron + employing with considerable effect the various blandishments of which he + was admitted a past master; the heiress modifying her resentment by + degrees under their insidious influence. Still she would not entirely quit + her troublesome position, till at last a happy inspiration came to + reinforce his assaults. Why, he reflected, should an entertainment that + would require a considerable outlay of money and trouble serve to win the + affections of only one girl? With the same expenditure of ammunition it + might be possible to double the bag. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Maddison,” he said with a regretful air, “I did come here to-day in + ze hope——But ach!” + </p> + <p> + So happily had he succeeded in whetting her curiosity that she begged—nay, + insisted—that he should finish his sentence. + </p> + <p> + “If you had been kind I did hope zat you vould allow me to give in your + honor an entertainment at my castle.” + </p> + <p> + “An entertainment!” she cried, with a marked increase of interest. + </p> + <p> + “Jost a leetle EXPOSITION of ze Highland sport, mit bagpipes and caber and + so forth; unvorthy of your notice perhaps, bot ze best I can do.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor clapped her hands enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + “I should just love it!” + </p> + <p> + The triumphant diplomatist smiled complacently. + </p> + <p> + “Bonker vill arrange it all nicely,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + And there rose in his fancy such a pleasing and gorgeous picture of + himself in the panoply of the North, hurling a hammer skywards amidst the + plaudits of his clan and the ravished murmurs of the ladies, that he could + not but congratulate himself upon this last master-stroke of policy. For + if instead of ladies there were only one lady, exactly half the pleasure + would be lacking. So generous were this nobleman's instincts! + </p> + <p> + During their drive to Lincoln Lodge the Baron had hesitated to broach his + new project to his friend for the very reason that, after the glow of his + first enthusiastic proposal to Eva was over, it seemed to him a vast + undertaking for a limited object; but driving home he lost no time in + confiding his scheme to the Count. + </p> + <p> + “The deuce!” cried Bunker. “That will mean three more days here at least!” + </p> + <p> + “Vat is tree days, mine Bonker?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Baron, I am the last man in the world to drop an unpleasant hint; + yet I can't help thinking we have been so unconscionably lucky up till now + that it would be wise to retire before an accident befalls us.” + </p> + <p> + “Vat kind of accident?” + </p> + <p> + “The kind that may happen to the best regulated adventurer.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron pondered. When Bunker suggested caution it indeed seemed time to + beat a retreat; yet—those two charming ladies, and that alluring + tartan tableau! + </p> + <p> + “Ach, let ze devil take ze man zat is afraid!” he exclaimed at last. + “Bonker, it vill be soch fun!” + </p> + <p> + “Watching you complete two conquests?” + </p> + <p> + “Be not impatient, good Bonker!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, if you could find me one girl—even one would + content me—who would condescend to turn her eyes from the dazzling + spectacle of Baron Tulliwuddle, and cast them for so much as half an hour + a day upon his obscure companion, I might see some fun in it too.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron, with an air of patronizing kindness that made his + fellow-adventurer's lot none the easier to bear, answered reassuringly— + </p> + <p> + “Bot I shall leave all ze preparations to be made by you; you vill not + have time zen to feel lonely.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Baron; you have the knack of conferring the most princely + favors.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, I am used to do so,” said the Baron simply, and then burst out + eagerly, “Some feat you must design for me at ze sports so zat I can show + zem my strength, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “With the caber, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron had seen the caber tossed, and he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “He is too big.” + </p> + <p> + “I might fit a strong spring in one end.” + </p> + <p> + But the Baron still seemed disinclined. His friend reflected, and then + suddenly exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “The village doctor keeps some chemical apparatus, I believe! You'll throw + the hammer, Baron. I can manage it.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron appeared mystified by the juxtaposition of ideas, but serenely + expressed himself as ready to entrust this and all other arrangements for + the Hechnahoul Gathering to the ingenious Count, as some small + compensation for so conspicuously outshining him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + The day of the Gathering broke gray and still, and the Baron, who was no + weather prophet, declared gloomily— + </p> + <p> + “It vill rain. Donnerwetter!” + </p> + <p> + A couple of hours later the sun was out, and the distant hills shimmering + in the heat haze. + </p> + <p> + “Himmel! Ve are alvays lucky, Bonker!” he cried, and with gleeful energy + brandished his dumb-bells in final preparation for his muscular exploits. + </p> + <p> + “We certainly have escaped hanging so far,” said the Count, as he drew on + the trews which became his well-turned leg so happily. + </p> + <p> + His arrangements were admirable and complete, and by twelve o'clock the + castle lawn looked as barbarically gay as the colored supplement to an + illustrated paper. Pipes were skirling, skirts fluttering, flags flapping; + and as invitations had been issued to various magnates in the district, + whether acquainted with the present peer or not, there were to be seen + quite a number of dignified personages in divers shades of tartan, and + parasols of all the hues in the rainbow. The Baron was in his element. He + judged the bagpipe competition himself, and held one end of the tape that + measured the jumps, besides delighting the whole assembled company by his + affability and good spirits. + </p> + <p> + “Your performance comes next, I see,” said Eleanor Maddison, throwing him + her brightest smile. “I can't tell you how I am looking forward to seeing + you do it!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron started and looked at the programme in her hand. He had been too + excited to study it carefully before, and now for the first time he saw + the announcement (in large type)— + </p> + <p> + “7. Lord Tulliwuddle throws the 85-lb. hammer.” + </p> + <p> + The sixth event was nearly through, and there—there evidently was + the hammer in question being carried into the ring by no fewer than three + stalwart Highlanders! The Baron had learned enough of the pastimes of his + adopted country to be aware that this gigantic weapon was something like + four times as heavy as any hammer hitherto thrown by the hardiest + Caledonian. + </p> + <p> + “Teufel! Bonker vill make a fool of me,” he muttered, and hastily bursting + from the circle of spectators, hurried towards the Count, who appeared to + be busied in keeping the curious away from the Chieftain's hammer. + </p> + <p> + “Bonker, vat means zis?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Your hammer,” smiled the Count. + </p> + <p> + “A hammer zat takes tree men——” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” whispered the Count. “They are only holding it down!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron laid his hand upon the round enormous head, and started. + </p> + <p> + “It is not iron!” he gasped. “It is of rubber.” + </p> + <p> + “Filled with hydrogen,” breathed the Count in his ear. “Just swing it once + and let go—and, I say, mind it doesn't carry you away with it.” + </p> + <p> + The chief bared his arms and seized the handle; his three clansmen let go; + and then, with what seemed to the breathless spectators to be a merely + trifling effort of strength, he dismissed the projectile upon the most + astounding journey ever seen even in that land of brawny hammer-hurlers. + Up, up, up it soared, over the trees; high above the topmost turret of the + castle, and still on and on and ever upwards till it became a mere speck + in the zenith, and at last faded utterly from sight. + </p> + <p> + Then, and not till then, did the pent-up applause break out into such a + roar of cheering as Hechnahoul had never heard before in all its long + history. + </p> + <p> + “Eighty-five pounds of pig-iron gone straight to heaven!” gasped the + Silver King. “Guess that beats all records!” + </p> + <p> + “America must wake up!” frowned Ri. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the Baron, after bowing in turn towards all points of the + compass, turned confidentially to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Vill not ze men that carried it——?” + </p> + <p> + “I've told 'em you'd give 'em a couple of sovereigns apiece.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron came from an economical nation. + </p> + <p> + “Two to each!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, wasn't it worth it?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron grasped his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ja, mine Bonker, it vas! I vill pay zem.” + </p> + <p> + Radiant and smiling, he returned to receive the congratulations of his + guests, dreaming that his triumph was complete, and that nothing more + arduous remained than pleasant dalliance alternately with his Eleanor and + his Eva. But he speedily discovered that hurling an inflated hammer + heavenwards was child's play as compared with the simultaneous negotiation + of a double wooing. The first person to address him was the millionaire, + and he could not but feel a shiver of apprehension to note that he was + evidently in the midst of a conversation with Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “I must congratulate you, Lord Tulliwuddle,” said Mr. Maddison, “and I + must further congratulate my daughter upon the almost miraculous feat you + have performed for her benefit. You know, I dare say”—here he turned + to Mr. Gallosh—“that this very delightful entertainment was given + primarily in my Eleanor's honor?” + </p> + <p> + “Whut!” exclaimed the merchant. “That's—eh—that's scarcely the + fac's as we've learned them. But his lordship will be able to tell you + best himself.” + </p> + <p> + His lordship smiled affably upon both, murmured something incoherent, and + passed on hastily towards the scarlet parasol of Eleanor. But he had no + sooner reached it than he paused and would have turned had she not seen + him, for under a blue parasol beside her he espied, too late, the fair + face of Eva, and too clearly perceived that the happy maidens had been + comparing notes, with the result that neither looked very happy now. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you do enjoy ze sports,” he began, endeavoring to distribute this + wish as equally as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Gallosh has been remarkably fortunate in her weather,” said Eleanor, + and therewith gave him an uninterrupted view of her sunshade. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Maddison has seen you to great advantage, Lord Tulliwuddle,” said + Eva, affording him the next instant a similar prospect of silk. + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate chief recoiled from this ungrateful reception of his + kindness. Only one refuge, one mediator, he instinctively looked for; but + where could the Count have gone? + </p> + <p> + “Himmel! Has he deserted me?” he muttered, frantically elbowing his way in + search of him. + </p> + <p> + But this once it happened that the Count was engaged upon business of his + own. Strolling outside the ring of spectators, with a view to enjoying a + cigar and a little relaxation from the anxieties of stage-management, his + attention had been arrested in a singular and flattering way. At that + place where he happened to be passing stood an open carriage containing a + girl and an older lady, evidently guests from the neighborhood personally + unknown to his lordship, and just as he went by he heard pronounced in a + thrilling whisper—“THAT must be Count Bunker!” + </p> + <p> + The Count was too well-bred to turn at once, but it is hardly necessary to + say that a few moments later he casually repassed the carriage; nor will + it astonish any who have been kind enough to follow his previous career + with some degree of attention to learn that when opposite the ladies he + paused, looked from them to the enclosure and back again, and presently + raising his feathered bonnet, said in the most ingratiating tones— + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, but I am requested by Lord Tulliwuddle to show any attention I + can to the comfort of his guests. Can you see well from where you are?” + </p> + <p> + The younger lady with an eager air assured him that they saw perfectly, + and even in the course of the three or four sentences she spoke he was + able to come to several conclusions regarding her: that her companion was + in a subsidiary and doubtless salaried position; that she herself was + decidedly attractive to look upon; that her voice had spoken the whispered + words; and that her present animated air might safely be attributed rather + to the fact that she addressed Count Bunker than to the subject-matter of + her reply. + </p> + <p> + No one possessed in a higher degree than the Count the nice art of + erecting a whole conversation upon the foundation of the lightest phrase. + He contrived a reply to the lady's answer, was able to put the most + natural question next, to follow that with a happy stroke of wit, and + within three minutes to make it seem the most obvious thing in the world + that he should be saying + </p> + <p> + “I am sure that Lord Tulliwuddle will never forgive me if I fail to learn + the names of any visitors who have honored him to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine,” said the girl, her color rising slightly, but her glance as kind + as ever, “is Julia Wallingford. This is my friend Miss Minchell.” + </p> + <p> + The Count bowed. + </p> + <p> + “And may I introduce myself as a friend of Tulliwuddle's, answering to the + name of Count Bunker.” + </p> + <p> + Again Miss Wallingford's color rose. In a low and ardent voice she began + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad to meet you! Your name is already——” + </p> + <p> + But at that instant, when the Count was bending forward to catch the words + and the lady bending down to utter them, a hand grasped him by the sleeve, + and the Baron's voice exclaimed, + </p> + <p> + “Come, Bonker, quickly here to help me!” + </p> + <p> + He would fain have presented his lordship to the ladies, but the Baron was + too hurried to pause, and with a parting bow he was reluctantly borne off + to assist his friend out of his latest dilemma. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, my dear Baron!” he cried, when the situation was explained to him; + “you couldn't have done more damage to their hearts if you had hurled your + hammer at them! A touch of jealousy was all that was needed to complete + your conquests. But for me you have spoiled the most promising affair + imaginable. There goes their carriage trotting down the drive! And I shall + probably never know whether my name was already in her heart or in her + prayers. Those are the two chief receptacles for gentlemen's names, I + believe—aren't they, Baron?” + </p> + <p> + On his advice the rival families were left to the soothing influences of a + good dinner and a night's sleep, and he found himself free to ponder over + his interrupted adventure. + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly one feels all the better for a little appreciation,” he + reflected complacently. “I wonder if it was my trews that bowled her + over?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <p> + The Count next morning consumed a solitary breakfast, his noble friend + having risen some hours previously and gone for an early walk upon the + hill. But he was far from feeling any trace of boredom, since an open + letter beside his plate appeared to provide him with an ample fund of + pleasant and entertaining reflections. + </p> + <p> + “I have not withered yet,” he said to himself. “Here is proof positive + that some blossom, some aroma remains!” + </p> + <p> + The precise terms of this encouraging epistle were these: + </p> + <p> + “THE LASH, near NETHERBRIG. + </p> + <p> + “Tuesday night. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR COUNT BUNKER,—Forgive what must seem to you INCREDIBLE + boldness (!), and do not think worse of me than I deserve. It seems such a + pity that you should be so near and yet that I should lose this chance of + gratifying my great desire. If you knew how I prized the name of Bunker + you would understand; but no doubt I am only one among many, and you do + understand better than I can explain. + </p> + <p> + “My father is away from home, and the WORLD dictates prudence; but I know + your views on conventionality are those I too have learned to share, so + will you come and see me before you leave Scotland? + </p> + <p> + “With kindest regards and in great haste because I want you to get this + to-morrow morning. Believe me, yours very sincerely, + </p> + <p> + “JULIA WALLINGFORD.” + </p> + <p> + “P.S.—If it would upset your arrangements to come only for the day, + Miss Minchell agrees with me that we could easily put you up.—J. W.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jingo!” mused the Count, “that's what I call a sporting offer. Her + father away from home, and Count Bunker understanding better than she can + explain! Gad, it's my duty to go!” + </p> + <p> + But besides the engaging cordiality of Miss Wallingford's invitation, + there was something about the letter that puzzled almost as much as it + cheered him. + </p> + <p> + “She prizes the name of Bunker, does she? Never struck me it was very + ornamental; and in any case the compliment seems a trifle stretched. But, + hang it! this is looking a gift-horse in the mouth. Such ardor deserves to + be embraced, not dissected.” + </p> + <p> + He swiftly debated how best to gratify the lady. Last night it had been + his own counsel, and likewise the Baron's desire, to leave by the night + mail that very evening, with their laurels still unfaded and blessings + heaped upon their heads. Why not make his next stage The Lash? + </p> + <p> + “Hang it, the Baron has had such a good innings that he can scarcely + grudge me a short knock,” he said to himself. “He can wait for me at Perth + or somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + And, ringing the bell, he wrote and promptly despatched this brief + telegram: + </p> + <p> + “Delighted. Shall spend to-night in passing. Bunker.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly was this point settled when the footman re-entered to inform him + that Mr. Maddison's motor car was at the door waiting to convey him + without delay to Lincoln Lodge. Accompanying this announcement came the + Silver King's card bearing the words, “Please come and see me at once.” + </p> + <p> + The Count stroked his chin, and lit a cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “There is something fresh in the wind,” thought he. + </p> + <p> + In the course of his forty-miles-an-hour rush through the odors of pine + woods, he had time to come to a pretty correct conclusion regarding the + business before him, and was thus enabled to adopt the mien most suitable + to the contingency when he found himself ushered into the presence of the + millionaire and his son. The set look upon their faces, the ceremonious + manner of their greeting, and the low buzzing of the phonograph, audible + above the tinkle of a musical box ingeniously intended to drown it, + confirmed his guess even before a word had passed. + </p> + <p> + “Be seated, Count,” said the Silver King; and the Count sat. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir,” he continued, “I have sent for you, owing, sir, to the high + opinion I have formed of your intelligence and business capabilities.” + </p> + <p> + The Count bowed profoundly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I believe, and my son believes, you to be a white man, even + though you are a Count.” + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” said Ri. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir, you must be aware—in fact, you ARE aware—of the + matrimonial project once entertained between my daughter and Lord + Tulliwuddle.” + </p> + <p> + “Once!” exclaimed the Count in protest. + </p> + <p> + “ONCE!” echoed Ri in his deepest voice. + </p> + <p> + “Hish, Ri! Let your poppa do the talking this time,” said the millionaire + sternly, though with an indulgent eye. + </p> + <p> + “But—er—ONCE?” repeated the Count, as if bewildered by the + past tense implied; though to himself he murmured—“I knew it!” + </p> + <p> + “When I gave my sanction to Lord Tulliwuddle's proposition, I did so under + the impression that I was doing a deal with a man, sir, of integrity and + honor. But what do I find?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, what?” thundered Ri. + </p> + <p> + “I find, sir, that his darned my-lordship—and be damned to his + titles——” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Maddison!” expostulated the Count gently. + </p> + <p> + “I find, Count, I find that Lord Tulliwuddle, under pretext of paying my + Eleanor a compliment, has provided an entertainment—a musical and + athletic entertainment—for another woman!” + </p> + <p> + The Count sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “It is true!” + </p> + <p> + “Name her!” + </p> + <p> + “She answers, sir, to the plebeian cognomen of Gallosh.” + </p> + <p> + “A nobody!” sneered Ri. + </p> + <p> + “In trade!” added his father scornfully. + </p> + <p> + Had the occasion been more propitious, the Count could scarcely have + refrained from commenting upon this remarkably republican criticism; but, + as it was, he deemed it more advisable to hunt with the hounds. + </p> + <p> + “That canaille!” he shouted. “Ha, ha! Lord Tulliwuddle would never so far + demean himself!” + </p> + <p> + “I have it from old Gallosh himself,” declared Mr. Maddison. + </p> + <p> + “And that girl Gallosh told Eleanor the same,” added Ri. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” cried the Count. “A mere invention.” + </p> + <p> + “You are certain, sir, that Lord Tulliwuddle gave them no grounds whatever + for supposing such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I pledge my reputation as Count of the Austrian Empire, that if my friend + be indeed a Tulliwuddle he is faithful to your charming daughter!” + </p> + <p> + Father and son looked at him shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + “Being a Tulliwuddle, or any other sort of pampered aristocrat, doesn't + altogether guarantee faithfulness,” observed the Silver King. + </p> + <p> + “If he has deceived you, he shall answer to ME!” declared the Count. “And + between ourselves, as nature's gentleman to nature's gentleman, you may + assure Miss Maddison that there is not the remotest likelihood of this + scheming Miss Gallosh ever becoming my friend's bride!” + </p> + <p> + The two Dariuses were sensibly affected by this assurance. + </p> + <p> + “As nature's gentleman to nature's gentleman!” repeated the elder with + unction, wringing his hand. + </p> + <p> + His son displayed an equal enthusiasm, and the Count departed with an + enhanced reputation and the lingering fragrance of a cocktail upon his + tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Now I think we are in comparatively smooth water,” he said to himself as + he whizzed back to the castle. + </p> + <p> + At the door he was received by the butler. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gallosh is waiting for you in the library, my lord,” said he, adding + confidentially (since the Count had endeared himself to all), “He's + terrible impatient for to see your lordship.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <p> + Evidently Mr. Gallosh, while waiting for the Count's return, had so worked + up his wrath that it was ready to explode on a hair-trigger touch; and, as + evidently, his guest's extreme urbanity made it exceedingly difficult to + carry out his threatening intentions. + </p> + <p> + “I want a word with you, Count. I've been wanting a word with you all + morning,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, Mr. Gallosh, I appreciate the compliment.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were you? I mean it was verra annoying not to find you when I + wanted you.” + </p> + <p> + The merchant was so evidently divided between anxiety to blurt out his + mind while it was yet hot from the making up, and desire not to affront a + guest and a man of rank, that the Count could scarcely restrain a smile. + </p> + <p> + “It is equally annoying to myself. I should have enjoyed a conversation + with you at any hour since breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph,” replied his host. + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you now?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gallosh looked at him steadfastly. + </p> + <p> + “Count Bunker,” said he, “I am only a plain man——” + </p> + <p> + “The ladies, I assure you, are not of that opinion,” interposed the Count + politely. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gallosh seemed to him to receive this compliment with more suspicion + than pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I'm saying,” he repeated, “that I'm only a plain man of business, and you + and your friend are what you'd call swells.” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid that I should!” the Count interjected fervently. “'Toffs,' + possibly—but no matter, please continue.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, so long as his lordship likes to treat me and my family as + kind of belonging to a different sphere, I'm well enough content. I make + no pretensions, Count, to be better than what I am.” + </p> + <p> + “I also, Mr. Gallosh, endeavor to affect a similar modesty. It's rather + becoming, I think, to a fine-looking man.” + </p> + <p> + “It's becoming to any kind of man that he should know his place. But I was + saying, I'd have been content if his lordship had been distant and polite + and that kind of thing. But was he? You know yourself, Count, how he's + behaved!” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly politely, I trust.” + </p> + <p> + “But he's not been what you'd call distant, Count Bunker. In fac', the + long and the short of it is just this—what's his intentions towards + my Eva?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it Mrs. Gallosh who desires this information?” + </p> + <p> + “It is. And myself too; oh, I'm not behindhand where the reputation of my + daughters is concerned!” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. G. has screwed him up to this,” said the Count to himself. Aloud, he + asked with his blandest air— + </p> + <p> + “Was not Lord Tulliwuddle available himself?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he's gone out.” + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not alone.” + </p> + <p> + “In brief, with Miss Gallosh?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so; and what'll he be saying to her?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a man of such varied information that it's hard to guess.” + </p> + <p> + “From all I hear, there's not been much variety so far,” said Mr. Gallosh + drily. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” observed the Count. + </p> + <p> + His host looked at him for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he demanded at length. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me if I am stupid, but what comment do you expect me to make?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, we all know quite well you're more in his lordship's + confidence than any one else in the house, and I'd take it as a favor if + you'd just give me your honest opinion. Is he just playing himself—or + what?” + </p> + <p> + The worthy Mr. Gallosh was so evidently sincere, and looked at him with + such an appealing eye, that the Count found the framing of a suitable + reply the hardest task that had yet been set him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gallosh, if I were in Tulliwuddle's shoes I can only say that I + should consider myself a highly fortunate individual; and I do sincerely + believe that that is his own conviction also.” + </p> + <p> + “You think so?” + </p> + <p> + “I do indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Though sensibly relieved, Mr. Gallosh still felt vaguely conscious that if + he attempted to repeat this statement for the satisfaction of his wife, he + would find it hard to make it sound altogether as reassuring as when + accompanied by the Count's sympathetic voice. He ruminated for a minute, + and then suddenly recalled what the Count's evasive answers and + sympathetic assurances had driven from his mind. Yet it was, in fact, the + chief occasion of concern. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Count Bunker, what his lordship has gone and done?” + </p> + <p> + “Should one inquire too specifically?” smiled the Count; but Mr. Gallosh + remained unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “You can bear me witness that he told us he was giving this gathering in + my Eva's honor?” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he went and told Miss Maddison it was for her sake?” + </p> + <p> + “Incredible!” + </p> + <p> + “It's a fact!” + </p> + <p> + “I refuse to believe my friend guilty of such perfidy! Who told you this?” + </p> + <p> + “The Maddisons themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” laughed the Count, as heartily as he had laughed at Lincoln + Lodge; “don't you know these Americans sometimes draw the long bow?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say you don't believe they told the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mr. Gallosh, I would answer you in the oft-quoted words of Horace—'Arma + virumque cano.' The philosophy of a solar system is some times compressed + within an eggshell. Say nothing and see!” + </p> + <p> + He shook his host heartily by the hand as he spoke, and Mr. Gallosh, to + his subsequent perplexity, found the interview apparently at a + satisfactory conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said the Count to himself, “'Bolt!' is the word.” + </p> + <p> + As he set about his packing in the half-hour that yet remained before + luncheon, he was surprised to note that his friend had evidently left no + orders yet concerning any preparations for his departure. + </p> + <p> + “Confound him! I thought he had made up his mind last night! Ah, there he + comes—and singing, too, by Jingo! If he wants another day's + dalliance——” + </p> + <p> + At this point his reflections were interrupted by the entrance of the + jovial Baron himself. He stopped and stared at his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Vat for do you pack up?” + </p> + <p> + “Because we leave this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, Bonker, absurd! To-morrow—yes, to-morrow ve vill leave.” + </p> + <p> + Bunker folded his arms and looked at him seriously. + </p> + <p> + “I have had two interviews this morning—one with Mr. Maddison, the + other with Mr. Gallosh. They were neither of them pleased with you, + Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “Not pleased? Vat did zey say?” + </p> + <p> + Depicting the ire of these gentlemen in the most vivid terms, the Count + gave him a summary of his morning's labors. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, pooh! Tuts, tuts!” exclaimed the Baron. “I vill make zat all right; + never do you fear. Eva, she does smile on me already. Eleanor, she vill + also ven I see her. Leave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “You won't go to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, Bonker, I swear I vill for certain!” + </p> + <p> + Bonker pondered. + </p> + <p> + “Hang it!” he exclaimed. “The worst of it is, I've pledged myself to go + upon a visit.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron listened to the tale of his incipient romance with the greatest + relish. + </p> + <p> + “Bot go, my friend! Bot go!” he cried, “and zen come back here to-morrow + and ve vill leave togezzer.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave you alone, with the barometer falling and the storm-cone hoisted? I + don't like to, Baron.” + </p> + <p> + “Bot to leave zat leetle girl—eh, Bonker? How is zat?” + </p> + <p> + “Was ever a man so torn between two duties!” exclaimed the conscientious + Count. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies come first!” quoth the Baron. + </p> + <p> + Bunker was obviously strongly tending to this opinion also. + </p> + <p> + “Can I trust you to guide your own destinies without me?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron drew himself up with a touch of indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Am I a child or a fool? I have guided mine destiny vary vell so far, and + I zink I can still so do. Ven vill you go to see Miss Wallingford?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll hire a trap from the village after lunch and be off about four,” + said the Count. “Long live the ladies! Learn wisdom by my example! Will + this tie conquer her, do you think?” + </p> + <p> + In this befitting spirit he drove off that afternoon, and the Baron, after + waving his adieus from the door, strode brimful of confidence towards the + drawing-room. His thoughts must have gone astray, for he turned by + accident into the wrong room—a small apartment hardly used at all; + and before he had time to turn back he stopped petrified at the sight of a + picture on the wall. There could be no mistake—it was the original + of that ill-omened print he had seen in the Edinburgh hotel, “The + Execution of Lord Tulliwuddle.” The actual title was there plain to see. + </p> + <p> + “Zen it vas not a hoax!” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + His first impulse was to look for a bicycle and tear after the dog-cart. + </p> + <p> + “But can I ride him in a kilt?” he reflected. + </p> + <p> + By the time he had fully debated this knotty point his friend was miles + upon his way, and the Baron was left ruefully to lament his rashness in + parting with such an ally. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <p> + During the horrid period of suspense that followed her visit to Sir + Justin, the Baroness von Blitzenberg naturally enough felt disinclined to + go much into society, and in fact rarely went out at all during the + Baron's absence, except to the houses of one or two of her mother's + particular friends. Even then she felt much more inclined to stay at home. + </p> + <p> + “Need we go to Mrs. Jerwin-Speedy's to-night?” she said one afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” replied the Countess decisively. + </p> + <p> + Alicia sighed submissively; but this attitude was abruptly changed into + one of readiness, nay, even of alacrity, when her mother remarked— + </p> + <p> + “By the way, she is an aunt of the present Tulliwuddle. I believe it was + you who were asking about him the other day.” + </p> + <p> + “Was I?” said the Baroness carelessly; but she offered no further + objections to attending Mrs. Jerwin-Speedy's reception. + </p> + <p> + She found there a large number of people compressed into a couple of small + rooms, and she soon felt so lost in the crush of strangers, and the + chances of obtaining any information about Lord Tulliwuddle or his Eva + seemed so remote, that she soon began to wish herself comfortably at home + again, even though it were only to fret. But fortune, which had so long + been unkind to her and indulgent to her erring spouse, chose that night as + the turning-point in her tide of favors. Little dreaming how much hung on + a mere introduction, Mrs. Jerwin-Speedy led up to the Baroness an + apparently nervous and diffident young man. + </p> + <p> + “Let me introduce my nephew, Lord Tulliwuddle—the Baroness von + Blitzenberg,” said she; and having innocently hurled this bomb, retired + from further participation in the drama. + </p> + <p> + With young and diffident men Alicia had a pleasant instinct for conducting + herself as smilingly as though they were the greatest wits about the town. + The envious of her sex declared that it was because she scarcely + recognized the difference; but be that as it may, it served her on this + occasion in the most admirable stead. She detached the agitated peer from + the thickest of the throng, propped him beside her against the wall, and + by her kindness at length unloosed his tongue. Then it was she began to + suspect that his nervous manner must surely be due to some peculiar + circumstance rather than mere constitutional shyness. Made observant by + her keen curiosity, she noticed at first a worried, almost hunted, look in + his eyes and an extreme impatience of scrutiny by his fellow-guests; but + as he gained confidence in her kindness and discretion these passed away, + and he appeared simply a garrulous young man, with a tolerably good + opinion of himself. + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow! He is in trouble of some kind. Something to do with Eva, of + course!” she said to her sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + The genuine Tulliwuddle had indeed some cause for perturbation. After + keeping himself out of the way of all his friends and most of his + acquaintances ever since the departure of his substitute, hearing nothing + of what was happening at Hechnahoul, and living in daily dread of the + ignominious exposure of their plot, he had stumbled by accident against + his aunt, explained his prolonged absence from her house with the utmost + difficulty, and found himself forced to appease her wounded feelings by + appearing where he least wished to be seen—in a crowded London + reception-room. No wonder the unfortunate young man seemed nervous and ill + at ease. + </p> + <p> + As for Alicia, she was consumed with anxiety to know why he was here and + not in Scotland, as Sir Justin had supposed; and, indeed, to learn a + number of things. And now they were rapidly getting on sufficiently + familiar terms for her to put a tactful question or two. Encouraged by her + sympathy, he began to touch upon his own anxieties. + </p> + <p> + “A young man ought to get married, I suppose,” he remarked confidentially. + </p> + <p> + The Baroness smiled. + </p> + <p> + “That depends on whether he likes any one well enough to marry her, + doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + He sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think—honestly now,” he said solemnly, “that one should + marry for love or marry for money?” + </p> + <p> + “For love, certainly!” + </p> + <p> + “You really think so? You'd advise—er—advise a fellow to blow + the prejudices of his friends, and that sort of thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have to know a little more about the case.” + </p> + <p> + He was evidently longing for a confidant. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose er—one girl was ripping, but—well—on the stage, + for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “On the stage!” exclaimed the Baroness. “Yes, please go on. What about the + other girl?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose she had simply pots of money, but the fellow didn't know much + more about her?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly shouldn't marry a girl I didn't know a good deal about,” said + the Baroness with conviction. + </p> + <p> + Lord Tulliwuddle seemed impressed with this opinion. + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I have begun to think,” said he, and gazed down at his + pumps with a meditative air. + </p> + <p> + The Baroness thought the moment had come when she could effect a pretty + little surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Which of them is called Eva?” she asked archly. + </p> + <p> + To her intense disappointment he merely stared. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you really know any girl called Eva?” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Can't think of any one.” + </p> + <p> + Suspicion, fear, bewilderment, made her reckless. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been in Scotland—at your castle, as I heard you were + going?” + </p> + <p> + A mighty change came over the young man. He backed away from her, + stammering hurriedly, + </p> + <p> + “No—yes—I—er—why do you ask me that?” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any other Lord Tulliwuddle?” she demanded breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + He gave her one wild look, and then without so much as a farewell had + turned and elbowed his way out of the room. + </p> + <p> + “It's all up!” he said to himself. “There's no use trying to play that + game any longer—Essington has muddled it somehow. Well, I'm free to + do what I like now!” + </p> + <p> + In this state of mind he found himself in the street, hailed the first + hansom, and drove headlong from the dangerous regions of Belgravia. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Till the middle of the next day the Baroness still managed to keep her own + counsel, though she was now so alarmed that she was twenty times on the + point of telling everything to her mother. But the arrival of a note from + Sir Justin ended her irresolution. It ran thus: + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR ALICIA,—I have just learned for certain that Lord T. is at + his place in Scotland. Singularly enough, he is described as apparently of + foreign extraction, and I hear that he is accompanied by a friend of the + name of Count Bunker. I am just setting out for the North myself, and + trust that I may be able to elucidate the mystery. Yours very truly, + </p> + <p> + “JUSTIN WALLINGFORD.” + </p> + <p> + “Foreign extraction! Count Bunker!” gasped the Baroness; and without + stopping to debate the matter again, she rushed into her mother's arms, + and there sobbed out the strange story of her second letter and the two + Lord Tulliwuddles. + </p> + <p> + It were difficult to say whether anger at her daughter's deceit, + indignation with the treacherous Baron, or a stern pleasure in finding her + worst prognostications in a fair way to being proved, was the uppermost + emotion in Lady Grillyer's mind when she had listened to this relation. + Certainly poor Alicia could not but think that sympathy for her troubles + formed no ingredient in the mixture. + </p> + <p> + “To think of your concealing this from me for so long!” she cried: “and + Sir Justin abetting you! I shall tell him very plainly what I think of + him! But if my daughter sets an example in treachery, what can one expect + of one's friends?” + </p> + <p> + “After all, mamma, it was my own and Rudolph's concern more than your's!” + exclaimed Alicia, flaring up for an instant. + </p> + <p> + “Don't answer me, child!” thundered the Countess. “Fetch me a railway + time-table, and say nothing that may add to your sin!” + </p> + <p> + “A time-table, mamma? What for?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Scotland,” pronounced the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall go too!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you shall not. You will wait here till I have brought Rudolph back + to you.” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness said nothing aloud, but within her wounded heart she thought + bitterly, + </p> + <p> + “Mamma seems to forget that even worms will turn sometimes!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <p> + “A decidedly delectable residence,” said Count Bunker to himself as his + dog-cart approached the lodge gates of The Lash. “And a very proper + setting for the pleasant scenes so shortly to be enacted. Lodge, avenue, a + bogus turret or two, and a flagstaff on top of 'em—by Gad, I think + one may safely assume a tolerable cellar in such a mansion.” + </p> + <p> + As he drove up the avenue between a double line of ancient elms and + sycamores, his satisfaction increased and his spirits rose ever higher. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if I can forecast the evening: a game of three-handed bridge, in + which I trust I'll be lucky enough to lose a little silver, that'll put + 'em in good-humor and make old Miss What-d'ye-may-call-her the more + willing to go to bed early; then the departure of the chaperon; and then + the tete-a-tete! I hope to Heaven I haven't got rusty!” + </p> + <p> + With considerable satisfaction he ran over the outfit he had brought, + deeming it even on second thoughts a singularly happy selection: the + dining coat with pale-blue lapels, the white tie of a new material and cut + borrowed from the Baron's finery, the socks so ravishingly embroidered + that he had more than once caught the ladies at Hechnahoul casting + affectionate glances upon them. + </p> + <p> + “A first-class turn-out,” he thought. “And what a lucky thing I thought of + borrowing a banjo from young Gallosh! A coon song in the twilight will + break the ground prettily.” + </p> + <p> + By this time they had stopped before the door, and an elderly man-servant, + instead of waiting for the Count, came down the steps to meet him. In his + manner there was something remarkably sheepish and constrained, and, to + the Count's surprise, he thrust forth his hand almost as if he expected it + to be shaken. Bunker, though a trifle puzzled, promptly handed him the + banjo case, remarking pleasantly— + </p> + <p> + “My banjo; take care of it, please.” + </p> + <p> + The man started so violently that he all but dropped it upon the steps. + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce did he think I said?” wondered the Count. “'Banjo' can't + have sounded 'dynamite.'” + </p> + <p> + He entered the house, and found himself in a pleasant hall, where his + momentary uneasiness was at once forgotten in the charming welcome of his + hostess. Not only she, but her chaperon, received him with a flattering + warmth that realized his utmost expectations. + </p> + <p> + “It was so good of you to come!” cried Miss Wallingford. + </p> + <p> + “So very kind,” murmured Miss Minchell. + </p> + <p> + “I knew you wouldn't think it too unorthodox!” added Julia. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid orthodoxy is a crime I shall never swing for,” said the Count, + with his most charming smile. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure my father wouldn't REALLY mind,” said Julia. + </p> + <p> + “Not if Sir Justin shared your enthusiasm, dear,” added Miss Minchell. + </p> + <p> + “I must teach him to!” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” thought the Count. “This is friendly indeed.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes passed in the exchange of these preliminaries, and then his + hostess said, with a pretty little air of discipleship that both charmed + and slightly puzzled him, + </p> + <p> + “You do still think that nobody should dine later than six, don't you? I + have ordered dinner for six to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Six!” exclaimed the Count, but recovering himself, added, “An ideal hour—and + it is half-past five now. Perhaps I had better think of dressing.” + </p> + <p> + “What YOU call dressing!” smiled Julia, to his justifiable amazement. “Let + me show you to your room.” + </p> + <p> + She led him upstairs, and finally stopped before an open door. + </p> + <p> + “There!” she said, with an air of pride. “It is really my father's bedroom + when he is at home, but I've had it specially prepared for YOU! Is it just + as you would like?” + </p> + <p> + Bunker was incapable of observing anything very particularly beyond the + fact that the floor was uncarpeted, and as nearly free from furniture as a + bedroom floor could well be. + </p> + <p> + “It is ravishing!” he murmured, and dismissed her with a well-feigned + smile. + </p> + <p> + Bereft even of expletives, he gazed round the apartment prepared for him. + It was a few moments before he could bring himself to make a tour of its + vast bleakness. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that's what they call a truckle-bed,” he mused. “Oh, there is + one chair—nothing but cold water-towels made of vegetable fibre + apparently. The devil take me, is this a reformatory for bogus noblemen!” + </p> + <p> + He next gazed at the bare whitewashed wall. On it hung one picture—the + portrait of a strangely attired man. + </p> + <p> + “What a shocking-looking fellow!” he exclaimed, and went up to examine it + more closely. + </p> + <p> + Then, with a stupefying shock, he read this legend beneath it: + </p> + <p> + “Count Bunker. Philosopher, teacher, and martyr.” + </p> + <p> + For a minute he stared in rapt amazement, and then sharply rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Hang it,” he said to himself, “I must throw a little light on this + somehow!” + </p> + <p> + Presently the elderly man-servant appeared, this time in a state of still + more obvious confusion. For a moment he stared at the Count—who was + too discomposed by his manner to open his lips—and then, once more + stretching out his hand, exclaimed in a choked voice and a strong Scotch + accent— + </p> + <p> + “How are ye, Bunker!” + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce!” shouted the Count, evading the proffered hand-shake with + an agile leap. + </p> + <p> + The poor fellow turned scarlet, and in an humble voice blurted out— + </p> + <p> + “She told me to do it! Miss Julia said ye'd like me to shake hands and + just ca' ye plain Bunker. I beg your pardon, sir; oh, I beg your pardon + humbly!” + </p> + <p> + The Count looked at him keenly. + </p> + <p> + “He is evidently telling the truth,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he took from his pocket half a sovereign. + </p> + <p> + “My good fellow,” he began. “By the way, what's your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Mackenzie, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Mackenzie, my honest friend, I clearly perceive that Miss Wallingford, in + her very kind efforts to gratify my unconventional tastes, has put herself + to quite unnecessary trouble. She has even succeeded in surprising me, and + I should be greatly obliged if you would kindly explain to me the reasons + for her conduct, so far as you can.” + </p> + <p> + At this point the half-sovereign changed hands. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” resumed the Count, “what is the meaning of this + remarkably villainous portrait labelled with my name?” + </p> + <p> + “That, sir,” stammered Mackenzie, greatly taken aback by the inquiry. + “Why, sir, that's the famous Count Bunker—your uncle, sir, is he + no'?” + </p> + <p> + Bunker began to see a glimmer of light, though the vista it illumined was + scarcely a much pleasanter prospect than the previous bank of fog. He + remembered now, for the first time since his journey north, that the + Baron, in dubbing him Count Bunker, had encouraged him to take the title + on the ground that it was a real dignity once borne by a famous personage; + and in a flash he realized the pitfalls that awaited a solitary false + step. + </p> + <p> + “THAT my uncle!” he exclaimed with an air of pleased surprise, examining + the portrait more attentively; “by Gad, I suppose it is! But I can't say + it is a flattering likeness. 'Philosopher, teacher, and martyr'—how + apt a description! I hadn't noticed that before, or I should have known at + once who it was.” + </p> + <p> + Still Mackenzie was looking at him with a perplexed and uneasy air. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wallingford, sir, seems under the impression that you would be + wanting jist the same kind of things as he likit,” he remarked + diffidently. + </p> + <p> + The Count laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Hence the condemned cell she's put me in? I see! Ha, ha! No, Mackenzie, I + have moved with the times. In fact, my uncle's philosophy and teachings + always struck me as hardly suitable for a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking that mysel',” observed Mackenzie. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you understand now how things are, don't you? By the way, you + haven't put out my evening clothes, I notice.” + </p> + <p> + “You werena to dress, sir, Miss Julia said.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to dress! What the deuce does she expect me to dine in?” + </p> + <p> + With a sheepish grin Mackenzie pointed to something upon the bed which the + Count had hitherto taken to be a rough species of quilt. + </p> + <p> + “She said you might like to wear that, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The Count took it up. + </p> + <p> + “It appears to be a dressing-gown!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “She said, sir, your uncle was wont to dine in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! It's one of my poor uncle's eccentricities, is it? Very nice of Miss + Wallingford; but all the same I think you can put out my evening clothes + for me; and, I say, get me some hot water and a couple of towels that feel + a little less like sandpaper, will you? By the way—one moment, + Mackenzie!—you needn't mention anything of this to Miss Wallingford. + I'll explain it all to her myself.” + </p> + <p> + It is remarkable how the presence or absence of a few of the very minor + accessories of life will affect the humor even of a man so essentially + philosophical as Count Bunker. His equanimity was most marvelously + restored by a single jugful of hot water, and by the time he came to + survey his blue lapels in the mirror the completest confidence shone in + his humorous eyes. + </p> + <p> + “How deuced pleased she'll be to find I'm a white man after all,” he + reflected. “Supposing I'd really turned out a replica of that unshaved + heathen on the wall—poor girl, what a dull evening she'd have spent! + Perhaps I'd better break the news gently for the chaperon's sake, but once + we get her of to bed I rather fancy the fair Julia and I will smile + together over my dear uncle's dressing-gown!” + </p> + <p> + And in this humor he strode forth to conquer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <p> + Count Bunker could not but observe that Miss Wallingford's eyes expressed + more surprise than pleasure when he entered the drawing-room, and he was + confirmed in his resolution to let his true character appear but + gradually. Afterwards he could not congratulate himself too heartily on + this prudent decision. + </p> + <p> + “I fear,” he said, “that I am late.” (It was in fact half-past six by + now.) “I have been searching through my wardrobe to find some nether + garments at all appropriate to the overall—if I may so term it—which + you were kind enough to lay out for me. But I found mustard of that + particular shade so hard to match that I finally decided in favor of this + more conventional habit. I trust you don't mind?” + </p> + <p> + Both the ladies, though evidently disappointed, excused him with much + kindness, and Miss Minchell alluded directly to his blue lapels as + evidence that even now he held himself somewhat aloof from strict + orthodoxy. + </p> + <p> + “May we see any allusion to your uncle, the late Count Bunker, in his + choice of color?” she asked in a reverently hushed voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the Count readily; “my aunt's stockings were of that hue.” + </p> + <p> + From the startled glances of the two ladies it became plain that the late + Count Bunker had died a bachelor. + </p> + <p> + “My other aunt,” he exclaimed unabashed; yet nevertheless it was with + decided pleasure that he heard dinner announced immediately afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “They seem to know something about my uncle,” he said to himself. “I must + glean a few particulars too.” + </p> + <p> + A horrible fear lest his namesake might have dined solely upon herbs, and + himself be expected to follow his example, was pleasantly dissipated by a + glance at the menu; but he confessed to a sinking of his heart when he + observed merely a tumbler beside his own plate and a large brown jug + before him. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” he thought, “do they imagine an Austrian count is + necessarily a beer drinker?” + </p> + <p> + With a sigh he could not quite smother, he began to pour the contents into + his glass, and then set it down abruptly, emitting a startled exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” cried Julia sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes (he was embarrassed to note) followed his every movement like a + dog's, and her apprehension clearly was extreme. + </p> + <p> + “This seems to be water,” smiled the Count, with an effort to carry off + their error as pleasantly for them as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it good water?” asked Julia with an air of concern. + </p> + <p> + It was the Count's turn to open his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You have concluded then that I am a teetotaler?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, we know you are!” + </p> + <p> + “If we may judge by your prefaces,” smiled Miss Minchell. + </p> + <p> + The Count began to realize the hazards that beset him; but his spirit + stoutly rose to meet the shock of the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “There is no use in attempting to conceal my idiosyncrasies, I see,” he + answered. “But to-night, will you forgive me if I break through the + cardinal rule of my life and ask you for a little stimulant? My doctor——” + </p> + <p> + “I see!” cried Miss Wallingford compassionately. “Of course, one can't + dispute a doctor's orders. What would you like?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, anything you have. He did recommend champagne—if it was good; + but anything will do.” + </p> + <p> + “A bottle of the VERY best champagne, Mackenzie!” + </p> + <p> + The dinner now became an entirely satisfactory meal. Inspired by his + champagne and by the success of his audacity in so easily surmounting all + difficulties, the Count delighted his hostesses by the vivacity and + originality of his conversation. On the one hand, he chose topics not too + flippant in themselves and treated them with a becomingly serious air; on + the other, he carefully steered the talk away from the neighborhood of his + uncle. + </p> + <p> + “By the time I fetch out my banjo they'll have forgotten all about him,” + he said to himself complacently. + </p> + <p> + Knowing well the importance of the individual factor in all the + contingencies of life, he set himself, in the meanwhile, to study with + some attention the two ladies beside him. Miss Minchell he had already + summarized as an agreeable nonentity, and this impression was only + confirmed on better acquaintance. It was quite evident, he perceived, that + she was dragged practically unresisting in Miss Wallingford's wake—even + to the length of abetting the visit of an unknown bachelor in the absence + of Miss Wallingford's parent. + </p> + <p> + As for Julia, he decided that she was even better-looking and more + agreeable than he had at first imagined; though, having the gayest of + hearts himself, he was a trifle disconcerted to observe the uniform + seriousness of her ideas. How one could reconcile her ecstatic enthusiasm + for the ideal with her evident devotion to himself he was at a loss to + conceive. + </p> + <p> + “However, we will investigate that later,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + But first came a more urgent question: Had his uncle and his “prefaces” + committed him to forswear tobacco? He resolved to take the bull by the + horns. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will not be scandalized to learn that I have acquired the + pernicious habit of smoking?” he said as they rose from the table. + </p> + <p> + “I told you he was smoking a cigar at Hechnahoul!” cried Miss Minchell + with an air of triumph. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were mistaken,” said Julia, and the Count could see that he + had slipped a little from his pedestal. + </p> + <p> + This must not be permitted; yet he must smoke. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I don't smoke REAL tobacco!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in that case,” cried Julia, “certainly then you may smoke in the + drawing-room. What is it you use?” + </p> + <p> + “A kind of herb that subdues the appetites, Miss Wallingford.” + </p> + <p> + He could see at a glance that he was more firmly on his pedestal than + ever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <h3> + “I have been longing for this moment!” said Julia softly. + </h3> + <p> + The Count and she were seated over the drawing-room fire, Bunker in an + easy-chair, smoking one of the excellent cigars which he had so grievously + slandered, Julia upon a stool by his knees, her face suffused with the + most intense expression of rapture. Miss Minchell was in the background, + shrouded in shadow, purporting to be enjoying a nap; yet the Count could + not but think that in so large a house a separate apartment might well + have been provided for her. Her presence, he felt, circumscribed his + actions uncomfortably. + </p> + <p> + “So have I!” he murmured, deeming this the most appropriate answer. + </p> + <p> + “Now we can talk about HIM!” + </p> + <p> + He started, but preserved his composure. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't we keep HIM till morning?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “But that is why you are here!” + </p> + <p> + She spoke as if this were self-evident; while the Count read himself a + thousand lessons upon the errors vanity is apt to lead one into. Yet his + politeness remained unruffled. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he answered. “Of course! But you see my knowledge of him——” + </p> + <p> + He was about to say that it was very slight, when, fortunately for him, + she interrupted with an eager— + </p> + <p> + “I know! I know! You were more than a son to him!” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce and all!” thought the Count. “That was a narrow squeak!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she continued in the same tone, “I have actually had the + audacity to translate one of his books—your preface and all.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand the allusion now,” thought Bunker. + </p> + <p> + Aloud he had the presence of mind to inquire— + </p> + <p> + “Which was it?” + </p> + <p> + “'Existence Seriously Reviewed.'” + </p> + <p> + “You couldn't have made a better choice,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + “And now, what can you tell me about him?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we talk about the book instead,” suggested Bunker, choosing what + seemed the lesser of two evils. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do!” + </p> + <p> + She rose impetuously, brought with a reverent air a beautifully written + and neatly tied-up manuscript, and sat again by his knee. Looking over his + shoulder he could see that the chaperon was wide awake and prepared to + listen rapturously also. + </p> + <p> + “I have so often longed to have some one with me who could explain things—the + very deep things, you know. But to think of having you—the Editor + and nephew! It's too good to be true.” + </p> + <p> + “Only eight o'clock,” he said to himself, glancing at the clock. “I'm in + for a night of it.” + </p> + <p> + The vision of a game of bridge and a coon song on the banjo from that + moment faded quite away, and the Count even tucked his feet as far out of + sight as possible, since those entrancing socks served to remind him too + poignantly of what might have been. + </p> + <p> + “What exactly did he mean by this?” began Julia, “'Let Potentates fear! + Let Dives tremble! The horny hand of the poor Man in the Street is + stretched forth to grasp his birthright!'” + </p> + <p> + “For 'birthright' read 'pocket-book.' There's a mistake in the + translation,” he answered promptly. “It appears to be an indirect argument + for an increase in the Metropolitan police.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure? I thought—surely it alludes to Socialism!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course; and the best advertisement for Socialism is a collision with + the bobbies. My uncle was a remarkably subtle man, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “How very ingenious!” exclaimed Miss Minchell from the background. + </p> + <p> + Julia did her best to feel convinced; but it was in a distinctly less + ecstatic voice that she read her next extract. + </p> + <p> + “'Alcohol, riches, and starched linen are the moths and worms of society.' + I suppose he means that they eat away its foundations?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, he was an enthusiastic entomologist. He merely meant to + imply that it isn't every one who can appreciate a glass of port and a + clean shirt.” + </p> + <p> + “But he didn't appreciate those things himself!” + </p> + <p> + “No; poor fellow. He often wished he could, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he really?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you've no idea how tired he grew of flannel and ginger-beer! Many a + time he's said to me, 'My boy, learn to take what's set before you, even + at an alderman's table.' Ah, his was a generous creed, Miss Wallingford!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose it was,” said Julia submissively. + </p> + <p> + His advantage in being able to claim an intimate personal knowledge of the + late philosopher's tastes encouraged the Count greatly. Realizing that a + nephew could not well be contradicted, he was emboldened to ask whether + there were any more points on which his authority could be of assistance. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” said she, “only—only somehow you seem to throw a different + light on everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, dear,” chimed in Miss Minchell, “a personal explanation always + makes things seem different.” + </p> + <p> + Julia sighed, but summed up her courage to read out— + </p> + <p> + “'When woman is prized according to her intellect and man according to his + virtue; oh, then mankind will return to Eden!'” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said he, “is one of the rare instances of my uncle's pessimism.” + </p> + <p> + “Of his pessimism! How can you say that?” + </p> + <p> + “He meant to imply that mankind would have to wait for some considerable + time. But do not feel dismayed. My own opinion is that so long as woman is + fair and man has the wit to appreciate her, we ARE in Eden.” + </p> + <p> + The gracious tone in which he delivered this dictum, and the moving smile + that accompanied it, appeared to atone completely for his relative's + cynical philosophy. With a smile and a sigh Julia murmured— + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think so?” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said the Count fervently; “and now suppose we were to have a + little music?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes!” cried Miss Minchell; “do you perform, Count Bunker?” + </p> + <p> + “I sometimes sing a little to the guitar.” + </p> + <p> + “To the guitar!” said Julia. “How delicious! Have you brought it?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been so bold,” he smiled, and promptly went to fetch this + instrument. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes he returned with an apologetic air. + </p> + <p> + “I find that by some error they have sent me away with a banjo instead,” + he exclaimed. “But I dare say I could manage an accompaniment on that if + you would condescend to listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + He felt so exceedingly disinclined for expounding a philosophy any longer + that he gave them no time to dissent, even had they wished to, but on the + instant struck up that pathetic ditty— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Down by whar de beans grow blue.” + </pre> + <p> + And no sooner had he finished it than (barely waiting for his meed of + applause) he further regaled them with— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Twould make a fellow + Turn green and yellow! +</pre> + <p> + Finally, as a tit-bit, he contributed— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “When hubby s gone to Brighton, + And I ve sent the cook to bed, + Oh who's that a-knocking on the window!” + </pre> + <p> + At the conclusion of this concert he knew not whether to feel more + relieved or chagrined to observe that his fair hostess had her eyes fixed + upon the clock. Thanking him with a slightly embarrassed air, she threw a + pointed glance at Miss Minchell, and the two ladies rose. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you will think we keep very early hours,” she began. + </p> + <p> + “It is one of the best rules in my uncle's philosophy,” he interposed. + </p> + <p> + Yet though glad enough to have come so triumphantly to the end of his + ordeal, he could not bring himself to let his charming disciple leave him + in a wounded or even disappointed mood. As soon as Miss Minchell had + passed through the door he quietly laid his hand upon Julia's arm, and + with a gesture beckoned her back into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon my seeming levity, Miss Wallingford,” he said in a grave and + gentle voice, “but you know not what emotions I had to contend with! I + thank you for your charming sympathy, and I beg you to accept in my + uncle's name that salute by which his followers distinguish the faithful.” + </p> + <p> + And he thereupon kissed the blushing girl with a heartiness that restored + her confidence in him completely. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said to himself as he retired with his candle, “I've managed to + get a fair penn'orth out of it after all.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> + <p> + In spite of the Spartan transformation which Sir Justin's bedroom had + undergone, our adventurer enjoyed an excellent night's rest. So fast + asleep was he at the hour of eight next morning that it took him a few + seconds to awake to the full possession of his faculties, even when + disturbed by a loud exclamation at his bedside. He then became aware of + the presence of an entire stranger in his room—a tall and elderly + man, with a long nose and a grizzled beard. This intruder had apparently + just drawn up the blind, and was now looking about him with an expression + of the greatest concern. + </p> + <p> + “Mackenzie!” he cried, in the voice of one accustomed to be heard with + submission, “What have you been doing to my room?” + </p> + <p> + The butler, too confused for coherent speech, was in the act of bringing + in a small portmanteau. + </p> + <p> + “I—I mentioned, Sir Justin, your room was hardly ready for ye, sir. + Perhaps, sir, if ye'd come into the pink room——” + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce, there's hardly a stick of furniture left! And whose + clothes are these?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine,” answered the Count suavely. + </p> + <p> + The stranger started violently, and turned upon the bed an eye at first + alarmed, then rapidly becoming lit with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Who—who is this?” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “That, sir—that——” stammered Mackenzie. + </p> + <p> + “Is Count Bunker,” said the Count, who remained entirely courteous in + spite of the inconvenience of this intrusion. “Have I the pleasure of + addressing Sir Justin Wallingford?” + </p> + <p> + “You have, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case, Mackenzie will be able to give you a satisfactory account + of my presence; and in half an hour or so I shall have the pleasure of + joining you downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + The Count, with a polite smile, turned over in bed, as though to indicate + that the interview was now at an end. But his visitor apparently had other + views. + </p> + <p> + “I should be obliged by some explanation from yourself of your entry into + my house,” said he, steadily keeping his eye upon the Count. + </p> + <p> + “Now how the deuce shall I get out of this hole without letting Julia into + another?” wondered Bunker; but before he could speak, Mackenzie had + blurted out— + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wallingford, sir—the gentleman is a friend of hers, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” thundered Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you that Miss Wallingford was actuated by the highest motives in + honoring me with an invitation to The Lash,” said Bunker earnestly. + </p> + <p> + He had already dismissed an ingenious account of himself as a belated + wanderer, detained by stress of weather, as certain to be contradicted by + Julia herself, and decided instead on risking all upon his supposed + uncle's saintly reputation. + </p> + <p> + “How came she to invite you, sir?” demanded Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + “As my uncle's nephew, merely.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin stared at him in silence, while he brought the full force of + his capacious mind to bear upon the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Your name, you say, is Bunker?” he observed at length. + </p> + <p> + “Count Bunker,” corrected that nobleman. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Doubtless, then, you are the same gentleman who has been residing + with Lord Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + “I am unaware of a duplicate.” + </p> + <p> + “And the uncle you allude to——?” + </p> + <p> + By a wave of his hand the Count referred him to the portrait upon the + wall. Sir Justin now stared at it. + </p> + <p> + “Bunker—Count Bunker,” he repeated in a musing tone, and then turned + to the present holder of that dignity with a look in his eye which the + adventurer disliked exceedingly. + </p> + <p> + “I will confer with you later,” he observed. “Mackenzie, remove my + portmanteau.” + </p> + <p> + In a voice inaudible to the Count he gave another order, which was + followed by Mackenzie also removing the Count's clothes from their chair. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mackenzie!” expostulated Bunker, now beginning to feel seriously + uneasy; but heedless of his protest the butler hastened with them from the + room. + </p> + <p> + Then, with a grim smile and a surprising alacrity of movement, Sir Justin + changed the key into the outside of the lock, passed through the door, and + shut and locked it behind him. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” ejaculated Count Bunker. + </p> + <p> + Here was a pretty predicament! And the most ominous feature about it + appeared to him to be the deliberation with which his captor had acted. It + seemed that he had got himself into a worse scrape than he could estimate. + </p> + <p> + He wasted no time in examining his prison with an eye to the possibility + of an escape, but it became very quickly evident that he was securely + trapped. From the windows he could not see even a water-pipe within hail, + and the door was unburstably ponderous. Besides, a gentleman attired + either in pajamas or evening dress will naturally shrink from flight + across country at nine o'clock in the morning. It seemed to the Count that + he was as well in bed as anywhere else, and upon this opinion he acted. + </p> + <p> + In about an hour's time the door was cautiously unlocked, and a tray, + containing some breakfast, laid upon the floor; but at the same time he + was permitted to see that a cordon of grooms and keepers guarded against + his flight. He showed a wonderful appetite, all circumstances considered, + smoked a couple of cigars, and at last decided upon getting up and donning + his evening clothes. Thereafter nothing occurred, beyond the arrival of a + luncheon tray, till the afternoon was well advanced; by which time even + his good spirits had become a trifle damped, and his apprehensions + considerably increased. + </p> + <p> + At last his prison door was again thrown open, this time by Sir Justin + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, my dear,” he said in a grave voice; and with a downcast eye and + scarlet cheek the fair Julia met her guest again. + </p> + <p> + Her father closed the door, and they seated themselves before their + prisoner, who, after a profound obeisance to the lady, faced them from the + edge of his bed with an air of more composure than he felt. + </p> + <p> + “I await your explanation, Sir Justin,” he began, striking at once the + note which seemed to him (so far as he could guess) most likely to be + characteristic of an innocent and much-injured man. + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it,” said Sir Justin grimly. “Julia, you asked this person + to my house under the impression that he was the nephew of that + particularly obnoxious fanatic, Count Herbrand Bunker, and still engaged + upon furthering his relative's philanthropic and other visionary schemes.” + </p> + <p> + “But isn't he——” began Julia with startled eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I am Count Bunker,” said our hero firmly. + </p> + <p> + “The nephew in question?” inquired Sir Justin. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Again Sir Justin turned to his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I have already told you what I think of your conduct under any + circumstances. What your feelings will be I can only surmise when I inform + you that I have detained this adventurer here until I had time to despatch + a wire and receive an answer from Scotland Yard.” + </p> + <p> + Both Count and Julia started. + </p> + <p> + “What, sir!” exclaimed Bunker. + </p> + <p> + Quite unmoved by his protest, his captor continued, this time addressing + him— + </p> + <p> + “My memory, fortunately, is unusually excellent, and when you told me this + morning who you were related to, I recalled at once something I had heard + of your past career. It is now confirmed by the reply I received to my + telegram.” + </p> + <p> + “And what, Sir Justin, does Scotland Yard have to say about me?” + </p> + <p> + “Julia,” said her parent, “this unhappy young man did indeed profess for + some time a regard for his uncle's teachings, and even, I believe, + advocated them in writing. In this way he obtained the disposal of + considerable funds contributed by unsuspicious persons for ostensibly + philanthropic purposes. About two years ago these funds and Count Bunker + simultaneously disappeared, and your estimable guest was last heard of + under an assumed name in the republic of Uruguay.” + </p> + <p> + Uncomfortable as his predicament was, this picture of himself as the + fraudulent philanthropist was too much for Bunker's sense of humor, and to + the extreme astonishment of his visitors he went off into a fit of + laughter so hearty and prolonged that it was some time before he recovered + his gravity. + </p> + <p> + “My dear friends,” he exclaimed at last, “I am not that Bunker at all! In + fact I was only created a few weeks ago. Bring me back my clothes, and in + return I'll tell you a deuced sight funnier story even than that.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin rose and led his daughter to the door. + </p> + <p> + “You will have an opportunity to-morrow,” he replied stiffly. “In the + meantime I shall leave you to the enjoyment of the joke.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sir——” + </p> + <p> + Sir Justin turned his back, and the door closed upon him again. + </p> + <p> + Count Bunker's position was now less supportable than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Escape I must,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + And hardly had he breathed the word when a gleam of his old luck seemed to + return. He was standing by the window, and presently he observed a groom + ride up on a bicycle, dismount, and push it through an outhouse door. Then + the man strolled off, and he said to himself, with an uprising of his + spirits— + </p> + <p> + “There's my steed—if I could once get to it!” + </p> + <p> + Then again he thought the situation over, and gradually the prospect of a + midnight ride on a bicycle over a road he had only once traversed, clad in + his emblazoned socks and blue-lapelled coat, appeared rather less + entertaining than another night's confinement. So he lit his last cigar, + threw himself on the bed, and resigned himself to the consolations of an + innocent heart and a practical philosophy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII + </h2> + <p> + The clearness of the Count's conscience may be gauged when it is narrated + that no sooner had he dismissed the stump of his cigar toward the grate + than he dropped into a peaceful doze and remained placidly unconscious of + his perils for the space of an hour or more. He was then awakened by the + sound of a key being gently turned, and his opening eyes rested upon a + charming vision of Julia Wallingford framed in the outline of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” she whispered; “I—I have brought a note for you!” + </p> + <p> + Smoothing his hair as he met her, the Count thanked her with an air of + considerable feeling, and took from her hand a twisted slip of paper. + </p> + <p> + “It was brought by a messenger—a man in a kilt, who came in a motor + car. I didn't know whether father would let you have it, so I brought it + up myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the messenger waiting?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he went straight off again.” + </p> + <p> + Unrolling the scrap he read this brief message scrawled in pencil and + evidently in dire haste— + </p> + <p> + “All is lost! I am prisoner! Go straightway to London for help from my + Embassy. + </p> + <p> + “R. VON B.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” he exclaimed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Is it bad news?” asked Julia, with a solicitude that instantly suggested + possibilities to his fertile brain. + </p> + <p> + “Horribly!” he said. “It tells of a calamity that has befallen a very dear + friend of mine! Oh, Rudolph, Rudolph! And I a helpless prisoner!” + </p> + <p> + As he anticipated, this outburst of emotion was not without its effect. + </p> + <p> + “I am so sorry!” she said. “I—I don't believe, Count Bunker, you are + as guilty as father says!” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you I am not!” + </p> + <p> + “Can I—help you?” + </p> + <p> + He thought swiftly. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any one about the house just now?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes; the keeper is stationed in the hall!” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wallingford, if you would atone for a deep injury which you have + inadvertently done an innocent man, bring me fifty feet of stout rope! + And, I say, see that the door of the bicycle house is left unlocked. Will + you do this?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I'll try.” + </p> + <p> + A sound on the stairs alarmed her, and with a fleeting smile of sympathy + she was gone and the door locked upon him again. + </p> + <p> + Again the time passed slowly by, and he was left to ponder over the + critical nature of the situation as revealed by the luckless Baron's + intelligence. Clearly he must escape to-night, at all hazards. + </p> + <p> + “What's that? My rope?” he wondered. + </p> + <p> + But it was only the arrival of his dinner, brought as before upon a tray + and set just within the door, as though they feared for the bearer's life + should he venture within reach of this desperate adventurer from Uruguay. + </p> + <p> + “A very large dish for a very small appetite,” he thought, as he bore his + meal over to the bed and drew his chair up before it. + </p> + <p> + It looked indeed as though a roasted goose must be beneath the cover. He + raised it, and there, behold! lay a large coil of excellent new rope. The + Count chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Commend me to the heart and the wit of women! What man would ever have + provided so dainty a dish as this? Unless, indeed” (he had the breadth of + mind to add) “it happened to be a charming adventuress who was in + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Drinking the half pint of moderate claret which they had allowed him to + the happiness and prosperity of all true-hearted women, he could not help + regretting that his imprisoned confederate should be so unlikely to enjoy + similar good fortune. + </p> + <p> + “He went too far with those two dear girls. A woman deceived as he has + deceived them will never forgive him. They'd stand sentry at his cell-door + sooner than let the poor Baron escape,” he reflected commiserately, and + sighed to think of the disastrous effect this mishap might have both upon + his friend's diplomatic career and domestic felicity. + </p> + <p> + While waiting for the dusk to deepen, and endeavoring to console himself + for the lack of cigars with the poor remedy of cigarettes, he employed his + time profitably in tying a series of double knots upon the line of rope. + Then at last, when he could see the stars bright above the trees and hear + no sound in the house, he pulled his bed softly to the open window, and to + it fastened one end of his rope securely. The other he quietly let drop, + and losing not an instant followed it hand under hand, murmuring anathemas + on the rough wall that so scraped his evening trousers. + </p> + <p> + On tiptoe he stole to the door through which the bicycle had gone. It + yielded to a push, and once inside he ventured to strike a match. + </p> + <p> + “By Gad! I've a choice of half a dozen,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + It need scarcely be said that he selected the best; and after slitting + with his pocket-knife the tires of all the others, he mounted and pedalled + quietly down the drive. The lodge gates stood open; the road, a trifle + muddy but clear of all traffic, stretched visible for a long way in the + starlight; the breeze blew fair behind him. + </p> + <p> + “May Providence guide me to the station,” he prayed, and rode off into the + night. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII + </h2> + <p> + Suppose the clock be set back four-and-twenty hours, and behold now the + Baron von Blitzenberg, the diplomatist and premier baron of Bavaria, + engaged in unhappy argument with himself. Unhappy, because his reason, + though so carefully trained from the kindergarten upward, proved unable to + combat the dismal onsets of superstition. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! who cares for an old picture?” Reason would reiterate. + </p> + <p> + “It is an omen,” said Superstition simply; and Reason stood convicted as + an empty braggart. + </p> + <p> + But if Time be the great healer, Dinner is at least a clever quack, and + when he and old Mr. Rentoul had consumed well-nigh a bottle and a half of + their host's port between them, the outlook became much less gloomy. A + particularly hilarious evening in the drawing-room completed the triumph + of mind over what he was now able to term “jost nonsense,” and he slept + that night as soundly as the Count was simultaneously slumbering in Sir + Justin's bed-room. And there was no unpleasant awakening in the Baron's + case. On the contrary, all nature seemed in a conspiracy to make the last + day of his adventure pleasant. The sun shone brightly, his razors had an + excellent edge, sausages were served for breakfast, and when he joined the + family afterwards he found them as affectionately kind as a circle of + relations. In fact, the Baron had dropped more than one hint the night + before of such a nature that they had some reason for supposing + relationship imminent. It is true Eva was a little disappointed that the + actual words were not yet said, and when he made an airy reference to + paying a farewell call that morning upon their neighbors at Lincoln Lodge, + she exhibited so much disapproval in her air that he said at once— + </p> + <p> + “Ach, vell, I shall jost go after lonch and be back in an hour and a half. + I jost vish to say good-bye, zat is all.” + </p> + <p> + Little guessing how much was to hang upon this postponement, he drove over + after luncheon with a mind entirely reassured. With only an afternoon to + be safely passed, no mishap, he was sure, could possibly happen now. If + indeed the Maddisons chose to be offended with him, why, then, his call + would merely be the briefer and he would recommend Eva for the post of + Lady Tulliwuddle without qualification. It was his critics who had reason + to fear, not he. + </p> + <p> + Miss Maddison was at home, the staff of footmen assured him, and, holding + his head as high as a chieftain should, he strode into her sanctuary. + </p> + <p> + “Do I disturb you?” + </p> + <p> + He asked this with a quicker beating heart. Not Eleanor alone, but her + father and Ri confronted him, and it was very plain to see that a tempest + was in the brewing. Her eyes were bright with tears and indignation; their + brows heavy with formidable frowns. At the first moment of his entering, + extreme astonishment at seeing him was clearly their dominant emotion, and + as evidently it rapidly developed into a sentiment even less hospitable. + </p> + <p> + “Why, this beats the devil!” ejaculated Mr. Maddison; and for a moment + this was the sole response to his inquiry. + </p> + <p> + The next to speak was Ri— + </p> + <p> + “Show it him, Poppa! Confront him with the evidence!” + </p> + <p> + With ominous deliberation the millionaire picked up a newspaper from the + floor, where apparently it had been crumpled and flung, smoothed out the + creases, and approached the Baron till their noses were in danger of + collision. While executing this manoeuvre the silence was only broken by + the suppressed sobbing of his daughter. Then at last he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Our mails, sir, have just arrived. This, sir, is 'The Times' newspaper, + published in the city of London yesterday morning.” + </p> + <p> + He shook it in the Baron's face with a sudden vehemence that caused that + nobleman to execute an abrupt movement backward. + </p> + <p> + “Take it,” continued the millionaire—“take it, sir, and explain this + if you can!” + </p> + <p> + So confused had the Baron's mind become already that it was with + difficulty he could decipher the following petrifying announcement— + </p> + <p> + “Tulliwuddle—Herringay.—In London, privately, Lord Tulliwuddle + to Constance, daughter of Robert Herringay.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron's brain reeled. + </p> + <p> + “Here is another paragraph that may interest you,” pursued Mr. Maddison, + turning the paper outside in with an alarmingly vigorous movement, and + presenting a short paragraph for the Baron's inspection. This ran— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “PEER AND ACTRESS. +</pre> + <p> + “As announced in our marriage column, the wedding took place yesterday, + privately, of Lord Tulliwuddle, kinsman and heir of the late peer of that + name, so well known in London and Scottish society, and Miss Constance + Herringay, better known as 'Connie Fitz Aubyn,' of the Gaiety Theatre. It + is understood that the young couple have departed for the Mediterranean.” + </p> + <p> + In a few seconds given him to prepare his mind, the Baron desperately + endeavored to imagine what the resourceful Bunker would say or do under + these awful circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir?” said Mr. Maddison. + </p> + <p> + “It is a lie!” + </p> + <p> + “A lie?” + </p> + <p> + Ri laughed scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Mean to say no such marriage took place?” + </p> + <p> + “It vas not me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Anozzer man, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Another Lord Tulliwuddle?” inquired the millionaire. + </p> + <p> + “Zey have made a mistake mit ze name. Yes, zat is how.” + </p> + <p> + “Can it be possible?” cried Eleanor eagerly, her grief for the moment + forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said her father; “it is not possible. The announcement is confirmed + by the paragraph. A mistake is inconceivable.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron thought he perceived a brilliant idea. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, it is ze ozzer Tollvoddle!” he exclaimed. “So! zat is it, of + course.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say there is another peerage of Tulliwuddle?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch Debrett, Ri!” + </p> + <p> + But Ri had already not only fetched Debrett, but found the place. + </p> + <p> + “A darned lie. Thought so,” he observed succinctly. + </p> + <p> + The luckless diplomatist was now committed to perdition. + </p> + <p> + “It is not in ze books,” he exclaimed. “It is bot a baronetcy.” + </p> + <p> + “A baronetcy!” + </p> + <p> + “And illegitimate also.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” burst forth Ri, “you are a thundering liar! Is this your marriage + notice?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron changed his tactics. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” he declared. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor screamed. + </p> + <p> + “Don't fuss, Eleanor,” said her father kindly. “That ain't true, anyhow. + Why, the day before yesterday he was throwing that darned hammer.” + </p> + <p> + “Which came down last night in our yard with the head burst!” added Ri + contemptuously. “Found you out there too!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so!” exclaimed his father. + </p> + <p> + “That is so, sir!” + </p> + <p> + The three looked at him, and it was hard to say whether indignation or + contempt was more prominent in their faces. This was more than he could + endure. + </p> + <p> + “I vill not be so looked at!” he cried; “I vill leave you!” + </p> + <p> + “No you won't!” said Ri. + </p> + <p> + And the Baron saw his retreat cut of by the athletic and determined young + man. + </p> + <p> + “Before you leave, we have one or two questions to ask you,” said Mr. + Maddison. “Are you Lord Tulliwuddle, or are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!—No!” replied the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Which, sir?” + </p> + <p> + Expanding his chest, he made the awe-inspiring announcement— + </p> + <p> + “I am moch greater zan Tollyvoddle! I am ze Baron Rudolph von + Blitzenberg!” + </p> + <p> + “Another darned lie!” commented Ri. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Maddison laughed sardonically; while Eleanor, with flashing eyes, now + joined in the attack upon the hapless nobleman. + </p> + <p> + “You wretched creature! Isn't it enough to have shammed to be one peer + without shamming to be another?” + </p> + <p> + “Bot I am! Ja, I swear to you! Can you not see zat I am noble?” + </p> + <p> + “Curiously enough we can't,” replied Mr. Maddison. + </p> + <p> + But his daughter's scepticism was a little shaken by the fervor of his + assurances. + </p> + <p> + “But, Poppa, perhaps he may be a German peer.” + </p> + <p> + “German waiter, more likely!” sneered Ri. “What shall we do with him? Tar + and feathers, I guess, would just about suit his complaint.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Ri, no,” said his father cautiously. “Remember we are no longer + beneath the banner of freedom. In this benighted country it might lead + into trouble. Guess we can find him accommodation, though, in that bit of + genuine antique above the harness-room. It's fitted with a very + substantial lock. We'll make Dugald M'Culloch responsible for this BARON + till the police take him over.” + </p> + <p> + Vain were the Baron's protests; and upon the appearance of Dugald + M'Culloch, fisherman and factotum to the millionaire, accompanied by three + burly satellites, vain, he perceived, would be the most desperate + resistance. He plead the privileges of a foreign diplomatist, threatened a + descent of the German army upon Lincoln Lodge, guaranteed an intimate + acquaintance with the American ambassador—“Who vill make you sorry + for zis!” but all without moving Mr. Maddison's resolution. Even Eleanor + whispered a word for him and was repulsed, for he overheard her father + replying to her— + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Eleanor; no more a diplomatist than you would have been Lady + Tulliwuddle. Guess I know what I'm doing.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the late Lord Tulliwuddle, kilt and all, was conveyed by a guard + of six tall men and deposited in the bit of genuine antique above the + harness-room. This proved to be a small chamber in a thick-walled wing of + the original house, now part of the back premises; and there, with his + face buried in his hands, the poor prisoner moaned aloud— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my life, she is geblasted! I am undone! Oh, I am lost!” + </p> + <p> + “Will it be so bad as that, indeed?” + </p> + <p> + He looked up with a start, and perceived Dugald, his jailor, gazing upon + him with an expression of indescribable sagacity. + </p> + <p> + “The master will be sending me with his car to tell the folks at + Hechnahoul,” added Dugald. + </p> + <p> + Still the Baron failed to comprehend the exchange of favors suggested by + his jailor's sympathetic voice. + </p> + <p> + “Go, zen!” he muttered, and bent his head. + </p> + <p> + “You will not be wishing to send no messages to your friends?” + </p> + <p> + At last the prisoner understood. For a sovereign Dugald promised to convey + a note to the Count; for five he undertook to bribe the chauffeur to + convey him to The Lash, when he learned where that gentleman was to be + found. And he further decided to be faithful to his trust, since, as he + prudently reflected— + </p> + <p> + “If he will be a real chentleman after all it shall not be well to be hard + with him. And if he will not be, nobody shall know.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron felt a trifle less hopeless now, yet so black did the prospect + remain that he firmly believed he should never be able to raise his head + again and meet the gaze of his fellow-men; not at least if he stayed in + that room till the police arrived. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV + </h2> + <p> + Not even the news of Flodden brought direr dismay to Hechnahoul than Mr. + Maddison's brief note. Lord Tulliwuddle an impostor? That magnificent + young man a fraud? So much geniality, brawn, and taste for the bagpipes + merely the sheep's clothing that hid a wandering wolf? Incredible! Yet, on + second thoughts, how very much more thrilling than if he had really been + an ordinary peer! And what a judgment on the presumption of Mr. and Mrs. + Gallosh! Hard luck on Eva, of course—but, then, girls who aspire to + marry out of their own station must expect this kind of thing. + </p> + <p> + The latter part of this commentary was naturally not that of the + pretender's host and hostess. In the throes of their anger and chagrin + their one consoling reflection was that no friends less tried than Mr. and + Mrs. Rentoul happened to be there to witness their confusion. Yet other + sufferers since Job have found that the oldest friends do not necessarily + of er the most acceptable consolation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh! I feel like to die of grief!” wailed poor Mrs. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “Aye; it's an awful smack in the eye for you,” said Mr. Rentoul sagely. + </p> + <p> + “Smack in the eye!” thundered his host. “It's a criminal offence—that's + what it is! It's a damned swindle! It's a——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hush, hush!” interrupted Mrs. Rentoul in a shocked voice. “What words + for a lady to hear! After all, you must remember you never made any + inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + “Inquiries! What for should I be making inquiries about my guests? YOU + never dropped a word of such a thing! Who'd have listened if I had? It was + just Lord Tulliwuddle this and Lord Tulliwuddle that from morning to night + since ever he came to the Castle.” + </p> + <p> + “Duncan's so simple-minded,” groaned Mrs. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “And what were you, I'd like to know? What were you?” retorted her justly + incensed spouse. “Never a word did I hear, but just that he was such an + aristocratic young man, and any one could see he had blue blood in his + veins, and stuff of that kind!” + </p> + <p> + “I more than once had my own doubts about that,” said the alcohol expert + with a knowing wink. “There was something about him—— Ah, + well, he was not exactly my own idea of a lord.” + </p> + <p> + “YOUR idea?” scoffed his oldest and best of friends. “What do YOU know of + lords, I'd like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” answered the sage peaceably, “maybe we've neither of us had + much opportunity of judging of the nobility. It's just more bad luck than + anything else that you should have gone to the expense of setting up in + style in a lord's castle and then having this downcome. If I'd had similar + ambeetions it might have been me.” + </p> + <p> + This soft answer was so far from turning away wrath, that Mrs. Rentoul + again felt compelled to stem the tide of her host's eloquence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hush!” she exclaimed; “I'd have fancied you'd be having no thoughts + beyond your daughter's affliction.” + </p> + <p> + “My Eva! my poor Eva! Where is the suffering child?” cried Mrs. Gallosh. + “Duncan, what'll she be doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Making a to-do like the rest of the women-folk,” replied her husband, + with rather less sympathy than the occasion seemed to demand. + </p> + <p> + In point of fact Eva had disappeared from the company immediately after + hearing the contents of Mr. Maddison's letter, and whatever she had been + doing, it had not been weeping alone, for at that moment she ran into the + room, her face agitated, but rather, it seemed, with excitement than + grief. + </p> + <p> + “Papa, lend me five pounds,” she panted. + </p> + <p> + “Lend you—five pounds! And what for, I'd like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me now. I—I promise to tell you later—some time + later.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll see myself——! I mean, you're talking nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + Eva's lip trembled. + </p> + <p> + “Hi, hist! Eva, my dear,” said Mr. Rentoul; “if you're wanting the money + badly, and your papa doesn't see his way——” + </p> + <p> + He concluded his sentence with a wink and a dive into his trousers-pocket, + and a minute later Eva had fled from the room again. + </p> + <p> + This action of the sage, being at total variance to his ordinary habits + (which indeed erred on the economical side), was attributed by his irate + host—with a certain show of reason—to the mere intention of + annoying him; and the conversation took a more acrimonious turn than ever. + In fact, when Eva returned a few minutes later she was just in time to + hear her father thunder in an infuriated voice— + </p> + <p> + “A German waiter, is he? Aye, that's verra probable, verra probable + indeed. In fact I might have known it when I saw you and him swilling a + bottle and a half of my best port together! Birds of a feather—aye, + aye, exactly!” + </p> + <p> + The crushing retort which the sage evidently had ready to heap upon the + fire of this controversy was anticipated by Miss Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “He isn't a German waiter, papa! He is a German BARON—and an + ambassador, too!” + </p> + <p> + The four started and stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you learn that?” demanded her father. + </p> + <p> + “I've been talking to the man who brought the letter, and he says that + Lord Tulli—I mean the Baron—declares positively that he is a + German nobleman!” + </p> + <p> + “Tuts, fiddlesticks!” scoffed her father. + </p> + <p> + “Verra like a whale,” pronounced the sage. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't believe what HE said,” declared Mrs. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “One can SEE he isn't,” said Mrs. Rentoul. + </p> + <p> + “The kind of Baron that plays in a German band, perhaps,” added her + husband, with a whole series of winks to give point to this mot. + </p> + <p> + “He's just a scoundrelly adventurer!” shouted Mr. Gallosh. + </p> + <p> + “I hope he'll get penal servitude, that's what I hope,” said his wife with + a sob. + </p> + <p> + “And, judging from his appearance, that'll be no new experience for him,” + commented the sage. + </p> + <p> + So remarkably had their judgment of the late Lord Tulliwuddle waxed in + discrimination. And, strange to say, his only defender was the lady he had + injured most. + </p> + <p> + “I still believe him a gentleman!” she cried, and swept tearfully from the + room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV + </h2> + <p> + While his late worshippers were trampling his memory in the mire, the + Baron von Blitzenberg, deserted and dejected, his face still buried in his + hands, endured the slow passage of the doleful afternoon. Unlike the + prisoner at The Lash, who, by a coincidence that happily illustrates the + dispensations of Providence, was undergoing at the same moment an + identical ordeal, the Baron had no optimistic, whimsical philosophy to + fall back upon. Instead, he had a most tender sense of personal dignity + that had been egregiously outraged—and also a wife. Indeed, the + thought of Alicia and of Alicia's parent was alone enough to keep his head + bowed down. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, zey most not know,” he muttered. “I shall give moch money—hondreds + of pound—not to let zem find out. Oh, what for fool have I been!” + </p> + <p> + So deeply was he plunged in these sorrowful meditations, and so constantly + were they concerned with the two ladies whose feelings he wished to spare, + that when a hum of voices reached his ear, one of them strangely—even + ominously—familiar, he only thought at first that his imagination + had grown morbidly vivid. To dispel the unpleasant fancies suggested by + this imagined voice, he raised his head, and then the next instant bounded + from his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Mein Gott!” he muttered, “it is she.” + </p> + <p> + Too thunderstruck to move, he saw his prison door open, and there, behold! + stood the Countess of Grillyer, a terrible look upon her high-born + features, a Darius at either shoulder. In silence they surveyed one + another, and it was Mr. Maddison who spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “Guess this is a friend of yours,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + One thought and one only filled the prisoner's mind—she must leave + him, and immediately. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I do not know her!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know me?” repeated the Countess in a voice rich in promise. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “She knows you all right,” said the millionaire. + </p> + <p> + “Says she does,” put in Ri in a lower voice; “but I wouldn't lay much + money on her word either.” + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph! You pretend you do not know me?” cried the Countess between + wrath and bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + “I never did ever see sochlike a voman before,” reiterated the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to that, ma'am?” inquired Mr. Maddison. + </p> + <p> + “I say—I blush to say—that this wretched young man is my + son-in-law,” declared the Countess. + </p> + <p> + As she had come to the house inquiring merely for Lord Tulliwuddle, and + been conducted straight to the prisoner's cell, the stupefying effect of + this announcement may readily be conceived. + </p> + <p> + “What!” ejaculated the Dariuses. + </p> + <p> + “It is not true! She is mad! Take her avay, please!” shouted the Baron, + now desperate in his resolution to say or do anything, so long as he got + rid of his formidable relative. + </p> + <p> + The Countess staggered back. + </p> + <p> + “Is he demented?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Say, ma'am,” put in Ri, “are you the mother of Miss Constance Herringay?” + </p> + <p> + “Of——? I am Lady Grillyer!” + </p> + <p> + “See here, my good lady, that's going a little too far,” said the + millionaire not unkindly. “This friend of yours here first calls himself + Lord Tulliwuddle, and then the Baron von something or other. Well, now, + that's two of the aristocracy in this under-sized apartment already. + There's hardly room for a third—see? Can't you be plain Mrs. Smith + for a change?” + </p> + <p> + The Countess tottered. + </p> + <p> + “Fellow!” she said in a faint voice, “I—I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thought that would fetch her down,” commented Ri. + </p> + <p> + “Lead her back to ze train and make her go to London!” pleaded the Baron + earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “You stick to it, you don't know her?” asked Mr. Maddison shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I do not!” + </p> + <p> + “Is her name Lady Grillyer?” + </p> + <p> + “Not more zan it is mine!” + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph!” gasped the Countess inarticulately. “He is—he WAS my + son!” + </p> + <p> + “Stoff and nonsense!” roared the Baron. “Remove her!—I am tired.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Maddison, “I guess I don't much believe either of you; + but whether you know each other or not, you make such a remarkably fine + couple that I reckon you'd better get acquainted now. Come, Ri.” + </p> + <p> + And before either Countess or Baron could interpose, their captors had + slipped out, the key was turned, and they were left to the dual enjoyment + of the antique apartment. + </p> + <p> + “Teufel!” shouted the Baron, kicking the door frantically. “Open him, open + him! I vill pay you a hondred pound! Goddam! Open!” + </p> + <p> + But only the gasps of the Countess answered him. + </p> + <p> + It is generally conceded that if you want to see the full depths of + brutality latent in man, you must thoroughly frighten him first. This + condition the Countess of Grillyer had exactly succeeded in fulfilling, + with the consequence that the Baron, hitherto the most complacent and + amiable of sons-in-law, seemed ambitious of rivalling the Turk. When he + perceived that no answer to his appeals was forthcoming, dark despair for + a moment overcame him. Then the fiendishly ingenious idea struck him—might + not a woman's screams accomplish what his own lungs were unable to effect? + Turning an inflamed and frowning countenance upon the lady who had + intrusted her daughter's happiness to his hands, he addressed her in a + deep hissing voice— + </p> + <p> + “Shcream, shcream, voman! Shcream loudly, or I vill knock you!” + </p> + <p> + But the Countess was made of stern stuff. Outraged and frightened though + she was, she yet retorted huskily— + </p> + <p> + “I will not scream, Rudolph! I—I demand an explanation first!” + </p> + <p> + Executing a step of the sword-dance within a yard of her, he reiterated + </p> + <p> + “Shcream so zat zey may come back!” + </p> + <p> + She blinked, but held her ground. + </p> + <p> + “I insist upon knowing what you mean, Rudolph! I insist upon your telling + me! What are you doing here in that preposterous kilt?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron's wits brightened with the acuteness of the emergency. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he cried, “I vill take my kilt off—take him off before your + eyes this instant if you do not shcream!” + </p> + <p> + But she merely closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “If you dare! If you dare, Rudolph, I shall inform your Emperor! And I + will not look! I cannot see you!” + </p> + <p> + Whether in deference to imperial prejudices, or because a kiltless man + would be thrown away upon a lady who refused to look at him, the Baron + regretfully desisted from this project. At his wits' end, he besought her— + </p> + <p> + “Make zem take you avay, so zat you vill be safe from my rage! I do not + trost myself mit you. I am so violent as a bull! Better zat you should go; + far better—do you not see?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Rudolph, no!” replied the adamant lady. “I have come to guard you + against your own abandoned nature, and I shall only leave this room when + you do!” + </p> + <p> + She sat down and faced him, palpitating, but immovable; and against such + obstinacy the unhappy Rudolph gave up the contest in despair. + </p> + <p> + “But I shall not talk mit her; oh, Himmel, nein!” he said to himself; and + in pursuance of this policy sat with his back turned to her while the + shadows of evening gradually filled the room. In vain did she address him: + he neither answered nor moved. Indeed, to discourage her still further, he + even summoned up a forced gaiety of demeanor, and in a low rumble of + discords sang to himself the least respectable songs he knew. + </p> + <p> + “His mind is certainly deranged,” thought the Countess. “I must not let + him out of my sight. Ah, poor Alicia!” + </p> + <p> + But in time, when the dusk was thickening so fast that her son-in-law's + broad back had already grown indistinct of outline, and no voice or + footstep had come near their prison, her thoughts began to wander from his + case to her own. The outrageous conduct of those Americans in discrediting + her word and incarcerating her person, though overshadowed at the time by + the yet greater atrocity of the Baron's behavior, now loomed up in + formidable proportions. And the gravity of their offence was emphasized by + an unpleasant sensation she now began to experience with considerable + acuteness. + </p> + <p> + “Do they mean to starve us as well as insult us?” she wondered. + </p> + <p> + The Baron's thoughts also seemed to have drifted into a different channel. + He no longer sang; he fidgeted in his chair; he even softly groaned; and + at last he actually changed his attitude so far as to survey the dim form + of his mother-in-law over one shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ze devil!” he exclaimed aloud. “I am so hongry!” + </p> + <p> + “That is no reason why you should also be profane,” said the Countess + severely. + </p> + <p> + “I did not speak to you,” retorted the Baron, and again a constrained + silence fell on the room. + </p> + <p> + The Baron was the first to break it. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” he cried. “I hear a step.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” exclaimed the Countess devoutly. + </p> + <p> + In the blaze of a stable lantern there entered to them Dugald M'Culloch, + jailor. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be for any supper?” he inquired, with a politeness he felt due + to prisoners with purses. + </p> + <p> + “I do starve!” replied the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “And I am nearly fainting!” cried the Countess. + </p> + <p> + Both rose with an alacrity astonishing in people so nearly exhausted, and + made as though they would pass out. With a deprecatory gesture Dugald + arrested them. + </p> + <p> + “I will bring your supper fery soon,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Here?” gasped the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “It is the master's orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I vill have him ponished mit ze law, if he does not let me come + out!” roared the Baron. + </p> + <p> + Their jailor was courtesy itself; but it was in their prison that they + supped—a silent meal, and very plain. And, bitterest pill of all, + they were further informed that in their prison they must pass the night. + </p> + <p> + “In ze same room!” cried the Baron frantically. “Impossible! Improper!” + </p> + <p> + Even his mother-in-law's solicitude shrank from this vigil; but with + unruffled consideration for their comfort their guardian and his + assistants made up two beds forthwith. The Baron, subdued to a fierce and + snarling moodiness, watched their preparations with a lurid eye. + </p> + <p> + “Put not zat bed so near ze door,” he snapped. + </p> + <p> + In his ear his jailor whispered, “That one's for you, sir, and dinna put + off your clothes!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron started, and from that moment his air of resignation began to + affront the Countess as deeply as his previous violence. When they were + again alone, stretched in black darkness each upon their couch, she lifted + up her voice in a last word of protest— + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph! have you no single feeling for me left? Why didn't you stab that + man?” + </p> + <p> + But the Baron merely retorted with a lifelike affectation of snoring. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI + </h2> + <p> + For a long time the Baron lay wide awake, every sense alert, listening for + the creak of a footstep on the wooden stair that led up from the + harness-room to his prison. What else could the strange words of Dugald + have meant, save that some friend proposed to climb those stairs and + gently open that stubborn door? And in this opinion he had been confirmed + when he observed that on Dugald's departure the key turned with a silence + suggesting a recently oiled lock. His bed lay along the wall, with the + head so close to the door that any one opening it and stretching forth a + hand could tweak him by the nose without an effort (supposing that were + the object of their visit). Clearly, he thought, it was not thus arranged + without some very special purpose. Yet when hour after hour passed and + nothing happened, he began to sleep fitfully, and at last, worn out with + fruitless waiting, dropped into a profound slumber. + </p> + <p> + He was in the midst of a harassing dream or drama, wherein Bunker and Eva + played an incoherent part and he himself passed wearily from peril to + peril, when the stage suddenly was cleared, his eyes started open, and he + became wakefully conscious of a little ray of light that fell upon his + face. Before he could raise his head a soft voice whispered urgently, + </p> + <p> + “Don't move!” + </p> + <p> + With admirable self-control he obeyed implicitly. + </p> + <p> + “Who is zere?” he whispered back. + </p> + <p> + The voice seemed for a moment to hesitate, and then answered— + </p> + <p> + “Eleanor Maddison!” + </p> + <p> + He started so audibly that again she breathed peremptorily— + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Lie still till I come back. You—you don't deserve it, but I + want to save you from the disgrace of arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “Ach, zank you—mine better angel!” he murmured, with a fervor that + seemed not unpleasing to his rescuer. + </p> + <p> + “You really are a nobleman in trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear I am!” + </p> + <p> + “And didn't mean anything really wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “Never—oh, never!” + </p> + <p> + More kindly than before she murmured— + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess I'll take you out, then. I've bribed Dugald, so that's all + right. When my car's ready I'll send him up for you. You just lie still + till he comes.” + </p> + <p> + From which it appears that Count Bunker's appreciation of the sex fell + short of their meed. + </p> + <p> + Hardly daring to breathe for fear of awakening his fellow-prisoner, + trembling with agitation, and consumed by a mad impatience for action, the + Baron passed five of the longest minutes he had ever endured. At the end + of that time he heard a stealthy step upon the stairs, and with infinite + precautions threw off his bedclothes and sat upright, ready for instant + departure. But how slowly and with what a superfluity of precaution his + jailor moved! When the door at length opened he wondered that no ray of + light fell this time. + </p> + <p> + “Dugald!” he whispered eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” replied a softer voice than Dugald's; as soft, indeed, as + Eleanor's, yet clearly different. + </p> + <p> + “Who is zat?” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Eva Gallosh!” said the silken voice. “Oh, is that you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes—it is me.” + </p> + <p> + “And are you really a Baron and an ambassador?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes—yes—certainly I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—then I've come to help you to escape! I've bribed Dugald—and + I've got a dog-cart here. Come quickly—but oh, be very quiet!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the Baron actually hesitated to flee from that loathed + apartment. It seemed to him that if Fortune desired to provide him with + opportunities of escape she might have had the sense to offer these one at + a time. For how could he tell which of these overtures to close with? A + wrong decision might be fatal; yet time unquestionably pressed. + </p> + <p> + “Mein Gott!” he muttered irresolutely, “vich shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the other bed creaked, and, to his infinite horror, he + heard a suspicious voice demand— + </p> + <p> + “Is that you talking, Rudolph?” + </p> + <p> + Poor Eva, who was quite unaware of the presence of another prisoner, + uttered a stifled shriek; with a cry of “Fly, quickly!” the Baron leaped + from his bed, and headlong down the wooden stairs they clattered for + freedom. + </p> + <p> + A dim vision of the thrice-bribed Dugald, screeching, “The car's ready for + ye, sir!” but increased their speed. + </p> + <p> + Outside, a motor car stood panting by the door, and in the youthful + driver, turning a pale face toward them in the lamp's radiance, the Baron + had just time to recognize his first fair deliverer. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye!” he whispered to his second, and flung himself in. + </p> + <p> + Some one followed him; the door was slammed, and with a mighty throbbing + they began to move. + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph! Rudolph!” wailed a voice behind them. + </p> + <p> + “Zank ze goodness SHE is not here!” exclaimed the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Whisht! whisht!” he could hear Dugald expostulate. + </p> + <p> + With a violent start he turned to the fellow-passenger who had followed + him in. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not Dugald?” he demanded hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “No—it's—it's me! I dursn't wait for my dog-cart!” + </p> + <p> + “Eva!” he murmured. “Oh, Himmel! Vat shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + Only a screen of glass separated his two rescuers, and the one had but to + turn her head and look inside, or the other to study with any attention + the roll of hair beneath their driver's cap, in order to lead to most + embarrassing consequences. Not that it was his fault he should receive + such universal sympathy: but would these charming ladies admit his + innocence? + </p> + <p> + “How thoughtful of Dugald to have this car——” began Eva. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” he muttered hoarsely. “Yes, it was thoughtful, but you most not + speak too loudly.” + </p> + <p> + “For fear——?” she smiled, and turned her eyes instinctively + toward their driver. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he muttered, sweeping her as gently as possible from her seat + and placing her upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + “It vill not do for zem to see you,” he explained in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “How awful a position,” he reflected. “Oh, I hope it may still be dark ven + we get to ze station.” + </p> + <p> + But with rising concern he presently perceived that the telegraph posts + along the roadside were certainly grown plainer already; he could even see + the two thin wires against a paling sky; the road behind was visible for + half a mile; the hill-tops might no longer be confounded with the + clouds-day indubitably was breaking. Also he recollected that to go from + Lincoln Lodge to Torrydhulish Station one had to make a vast detour round + half the loch; and, further, began to suspect that though Miss Maddison's + driving was beyond reproach her knowledge of topography was scarcely so + dependable. In point of fact she increased the distance by at least a + third, and all the while day was breaking more fatally clear. + </p> + <p> + To discourage Miss Gallosh's efforts at conversation, yet keep her sitting + contentedly upon the floor; to appear asleep whenever Miss Maddison turned + her head and threw a glance inside, and to devise some adequate + explanation against the inevitable discovery at the end of their drive, + provided him with employment worthy of a diplomatist's steel. But now, at + last, they were within sight of railway signals and a long embankment; and + over a pine wood a stream of smoke moved with a swelling roar. Then into + plain view broke the engine and carriage after carriage racing behind. + Regardless of risk, he leaped from his seat and flung up the window, + crying— + </p> + <p> + “Ach, look! Ve shall be late!” + </p> + <p> + “That train is going north,” said Eleanor. “Guess we've half an hour good + before yours comes in.” + </p> + <p> + So little can mortals read the stars that he heaved a sigh of relief, and + even murmured— + </p> + <p> + “Ve have timed him very luckily!” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later they descended the hill to Torrydhulish Station. The + north-going train had paid its brief call and vanished nearly from sight + again; no one seemed to be moving about the station, and the Baron told + himself that nothing worse remained than the exercise of a little tact in + parting with his deliverers. + </p> + <p> + “Ach! I shall carry it off gaily,” he thought, and leaping lightly to the + ground, exclaimed with a genial air, as he gave his hand to Eva. + </p> + <p> + “Vell! Now have I a leetle surprise for you, ladies!” + </p> + <p> + Nor did he at all exaggerate their sensation. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Maddison!” + </p> + <p> + Alas, that it should be so far beyond the power of mere inky words to + express all that was implied in Eva's accents! + </p> + <p> + “Miss Gallosh!” + </p> + <p> + Nor is it less impossible to supply the significance of Eleanor's + intonation. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, ladies!” he implored, “do not, I pray you, misunderstand! I vas + not responsible—I could not help it. You both VOULD come mit me! No, + no, do not look so at me! I mean not zat—I mean I could not do + vizout both of you. Ach, Himmel! Vat do I say? I should say zat—zat——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off with a start of apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “Look! Zere comes a man mit a bicycle! Zis is too public! Come mit me into + ze station and I shall eggsplain! He waves his fist! Come! you vould not + be seen here?” + </p> + <p> + He offered one arm to Eva, the other to Eleanor; and so alarming were the + gesticulations of the approaching cyclist, and so beseeching the Baron's + tones, that without more ado they clung to him and hurried on to the + platform. + </p> + <p> + “Come to ze vaiting-room!” he whispered. “Zere shall ve be safe!” + </p> + <p> + Alack for the luck of the Baron von Blitzenberg! Out of the very door they + were approaching stepped a solitary lady, sole passenger from the south + train, and at the sight of those three, linked arm in arm, she staggered + back and uttered a cry more piercing than the engine's distant whistle. + </p> + <p> + “Rudolph!” cried this lady. + </p> + <p> + “Alicia!” gasped the Baron. + </p> + <p> + His rescuers said nothing, but clung to him the more tightly, while in the + Baroness's startled eyes a harder light began to blaze. + </p> + <p> + “Who are these, Rudolph?” + </p> + <p> + He cleared his throat, but the process seemed to take some time, and in + the meanwhile he felt the grip of his deliverers relax. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that lady?” demanded Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “His wife,” replied the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + The Baron felt his arms freed now; but still his Alicia waited an answer. + It came at last, but not from the Baron's lips. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here you all are!” said a cheerful voice behind them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII + </h2> + <p> + They turned as though they expected to see an apparition. Nor was the + appearance of the speaker calculated to disappoint such expectations. + Their startled eyes beheld indeed the most remarkable figure that had ever + wheeled a bicycle down the platform of Torrydhulish Station. Hatless, in + evening clothes with blue lapels upon the coat, splashed liberally with + mud, his feet equipped only with embroidered socks and saturated pumps, + his shirt-front bestarred with souvenirs of all the soils for thirty + miles, Count Bunker made a picture that lived long in their memories. Yet + no foolish consciousness of his plight disturbed him as he addressed the + Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Baron, for escorting my fair friends so far. I shall now take + them off your hands.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled with pleasant familiarity upon the two astonished girls, and + then started as though for the first time he recognized the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Baroness!” he cried, bowing profoundly, “this is a very unexpected + pleasure! You came by the early train, I presume? A tiresome journey, + isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + But bewilderment and suspicion were all that he could read in reply. + </p> + <p> + “What—what are YOU doing here?” + </p> + <p> + He was not in the least disconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “Meeting my cousins” (he indicated the Misses Gallosh and Maddison with an + amiable glance), “whom the Baron has been kind enough to look after till + my arrival.” + </p> + <p> + Audaciously approaching more closely, he added, in a voice intended for + her ear and the Baron's alone— + </p> + <p> + “I must throw myself, I see, upon your mercy, and ask you not to tell any + tales out of school. Cousins, you know, don't always want their meetings + advertised—do they, Baron?” + </p> + <p> + Alicia's eyes softened a little. + </p> + <p> + “Then, they are really your——” + </p> + <p> + “Call 'em cousins, please! I have your pledge that you won't tell? Ah, + Baron, your charming wife and I understand one another.” + </p> + <p> + Then raising his voice for the benefit of the company generally— + </p> + <p> + “Well, you two will want to have a little talk in the waiting-room, I've + no doubt. We shall pace the platform. Very fit Rudolph's looking, isn't + he, Baroness? You've no idea how his lungs have strengthened.” + </p> + <p> + “His lungs!” exclaimed the Baroness in a changed voice. + </p> + <p> + Giving the Baron a wink to indicate that there lay the ace of trumps, he + answered reassuringly— + </p> + <p> + “When you learn how he has improved you'll forgive me, I'm sure, for + taking him on this little trip. Well, see you somewhere down the line, no + doubt—I'm going by the same train.” + </p> + <p> + He watched them pass into the waiting-room, and then turned an altered + face to the two dumbfounded girls. It was expressive now solely of + sympathy and contrition. + </p> + <p> + “Let us walk a little this way,” he began, and thus having removed them + safely from earshot of the waiting-room door, he addressed himself to the + severest part of his task. + </p> + <p> + “My dear girls, I owe you I don't know how many apologies for presuming to + claim you as my friends. The acuteness of the emergency is my only excuse, + and I throw myself most contritely upon your mercy!” + </p> + <p> + This second projection of himself upon a lady's mercy proved as successful + as the first. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Eleanor slowly, “I guess maybe we can forgive you for that; + but what I want to know is—what's happened?—who's who?—and + where just exactly are we?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I want to know too,” added Eva sadly. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, they both had a hint of tears in their eyes, and in their voices. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened,” replied the Count, “is that a couple of thoughtless + masqueraders came up here to play a little joke, and succeeded in getting + themselves into a scrape. For your share in getting us out of it we cannot + feel too grateful.” + </p> + <p> + “But, who is——?” the girls began together, and then stopped, + with a rise of color and a suspicion of displeasure in their interchange + of eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Who is who? Well, my friend is the Baron von Blitzenberg; and the lady + is, as she stated, his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Then all this time——” began Eva. + </p> + <p> + “He was married!” Eleanor finished for her. “Oh, the heartless scoundrel! + To think that I rescued him!” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have either!” said Eva; “I mean if—if I had known he + treated you so badly.” + </p> + <p> + “Treated ME! I was only thinking of YOU, Miss Gallosh!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear ladies!” interposed the Count with his ready tact, “remember his + excuse.” + </p> + <p> + “His excuse?” + </p> + <p> + “The beauty, the charm, the wit of the lady who took by storm a heart not + easily captured! He himself, poor fellow, thought it love-proof; but he + had not then met HER. Think mercifully of him!” + </p> + <p> + He was so careful to give no indication which of the rival belles was + “her,” that each was able to take to herself a certain mournful + consolation. + </p> + <p> + “That wasn't MUCH excuse,” said Eleanor, yet with a less vindictive air. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not VERY much,” murmured Eva. + </p> + <p> + “He ought to have thought of the pain he was giving HER,” added Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Eva. “Indeed he ought!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true,” allowed the Count; “but remember his punishment! To + be married already now proves to be less his fault than his misfortune.” + </p> + <p> + By this time he had insidiously led them back to their car. + </p> + <p> + “And must you return at once?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “We had better,” said Eleanor, with a suspicion of a sigh. “Miss Gallosh, + I'll drive you home first.” + </p> + <p> + “You're too kind, Miss Maddison.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” + </p> + <p> + The Count assisted them in, greatly pleased to see this amicable spirit. + Then shaking hands heartily with each, he said— + </p> + <p> + “I can speak for my friend with conviction, because my own regard for the + lady in question is as deep and as sincere as his. Believe me, I shall + never forget her!” + </p> + <p> + He was rewarded with two of the kindest smiles ever bestowed upon him, and + as they drove away each secretly wondered why she had previously preferred + the Baron to the Count. It seemed a singular folly. + </p> + <p> + “Two deuced nice girls,” mused he; “I do believe I told 'em the truth in + every particular!” + </p> + <p> + He watched their car dwindle to a scurrying speck, and then strolled back + thoughtfully to purchase his ticket. + </p> + <p> + He found the signals down, and the far-off clatter of the train distinctly + audible through the early morning air. A few minutes more and he was + stepping into a first-class compartment, his remarkable costume earning + (he could not but observe) the pronounced attention of the guard. The + Baron and Alicia, with an air of mutual affection, entered another; both + the doors were closed, everything seemed ready, yet the train lingered. + </p> + <p> + “Start ze train! Start ze train! I vill give you a pound—two pound—tree + pound, to start him!” + </p> + <p> + The Count leaped up and thrust his head through the window. + </p> + <p> + “What the dickens——!” thought he. + </p> + <p> + Hanging out of the other window he beheld the clamant Baron urging the + guard with frenzied entreaty. + </p> + <p> + “But they're wanting to go by the train, sir,” said the guard. + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Zey do not! It is a mistake! Start him!” + </p> + <p> + Following their gaze he saw, racing toward them, the cause of their delay. + It was a motor car, yet not the same that had so lately departed. In this + were seated a young man and an elderly lady, both waving to hold back the + train; and to his vast amazement he recognized in the man Darius Maddison, + junior, in the lady the Countess of Grillyer. + </p> + <p> + The car stopped, the occupants alighted, and the Countess, supported on + the strong arm of Ri, scuttled down the platform. + </p> + <p> + “Bonker, take her in mit you!” groaned the Baron, and his head vanished + from the Count's sight. + </p> + <p> + Even this ordeal was not too much for Bunker's fidelity. + </p> + <p> + “Madam, there is room here!” he announced politely, as they swept past; + but with set faces they panted toward the doomed von Blitzenberg. + </p> + <p> + All of the tragedy that the Count, with strained neck, could see or + overhear, was a vision of the Countess being pushed by the guard and her + escort into that first-class compartment whence so lately the Baron's + crimson visage had protruded, and the voice of Ri stridently declaring— + </p> + <p> + “Guess you'll recognize your momma this time, Baron!” + </p> + <p> + A whistle from the guard, another from the engine, and they were off, + clattering southward in the first of the morning sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Inadequately attired, damp, hungry, and divorced from tobacco as the Count + was, he yet could say to himself with the sincerest honesty, + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't change carriages with the Baron von Blitzenberg—not even + for a pair of dry socks and a cigar! Alas, poor Rudolph! May this teach + all young men a lesson in sobriety of conduct!” + </p> + <p> + For which moral reflection the historian feels it incumbent upon him, as a + philosopher and serious psychologist, to express his conscientious + admiration. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_EPIL" id="link2H_EPIL"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EPILOGUE + </h2> + <p> + IT was an evening in early August, luminous and warm; the scene, a certain + club now emptied of all but a sprinkling of its members; the festival, + dinner; and the persons of the play, that gentleman lately known as Count + Bunker and his friend the Baron von Blitzenberg. The Count was habited in + tweeds; the Baron in evening dress. + </p> + <p> + “It vas good of you to come up to town jost to see me,” said the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “I'd have crossed Europe, Baron!” + </p> + <p> + The Baron smiled faintly. Evidently he was scarcely in his most florid + humor. + </p> + <p> + “I vish I could have asked you to my club, Bonker.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you dissatisfied with mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no! But—— vell, ze fact is, it vould be reported by + some one if I took you to ze Regents. Bonker, she does have me watched!” + </p> + <p> + “The Baroness?” + </p> + <p> + “Her mozzer.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce, Baron!” + </p> + <p> + The diplomatist gloomily sipped his wine. + </p> + <p> + “You did hush it all up, eh?” he inquired presently. + </p> + <p> + “Completely.” + </p> + <p> + “Zank you. I vas so afraid of some scandal!” + </p> + <p> + “So were they; that's where I had 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Did zey write in moch anger?” + </p> + <p> + “No—not very much; rather nice letters, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + The Baron began to cheer up. + </p> + <p> + “Ach, so! Vas zere any news of—ze Galloshes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they seem very well. Old Rentoul has caught a salmon. Gallosh hopes + to get a fair bag——” + </p> + <p> + “Bot did zey say nozing about—about Miss Eva?” + </p> + <p> + “The letter was written by her, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “SHE wrote to YOU! Strange!” + </p> + <p> + “Very odd, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron meditated for a minute and then inquired— + </p> + <p> + “Vat of ze Maddisons?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I gather that Mr. Maddison is erecting an ibis house in connection + with the aviary. Ri has gone to Kamchatka, but hopes to be back by the + 12th——” + </p> + <p> + “And Eleanor—no vord of her?” + </p> + <p> + “It was she who wrote, don't you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Eleanor—and also to you! Bot vy should she?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't imagine; can you?” + </p> + <p> + The Baron shook his head solemnly. “No, Bonker, I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + For some moments he pondered over the remarkable conduct of these ladies; + and then— + </p> + <p> + “Did you also hear of ze Wallingfords?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I had a short note from them.” + </p> + <p> + “From him, or——” + </p> + <p> + “Her.” + </p> + <p> + “So! Humph, zey all seem fond of writing letters.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—have you had any too?” + </p> + <p> + “No; and I do not vant zem.” + </p> + <p> + Yet his immunity did not appear to exhilarate the diplomatist. + </p> + <p> + “Another bottle of the same,” said Bunker aside to the waiter. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + It was an hour later; the scene and the personages the same, but the + atmosphere marvellously altered. + </p> + <p> + “To ze ladies, Bonker!” + </p> + <p> + “To HER, Baron!” + </p> + <p> + “To zem both!” + </p> + <p> + The genial heart, the magnanimous soul of Rudolph von Blitzenberg had + asserted their dominion again. Depression, jealousy, repentance, qualms, + and all other shackles of the spirit whatsoever, had fled discomfited. Now + at last he saw his late exploits in their true heroic proportions, and + realized his marvellous good fortune in satisfying his aspirations so + gloriously. Raising his glass once more, he cried— + </p> + <p> + “Dear Bonker, my heart he does go out to you! Ach, you have given me soch + a treat. Vunce more I schmell ze mountain dew—I hear ze pipes—I + gaze into loffly eyes—I am ze noblest part of mineself! Bonker, I + vill defy ze mozzer of my wife! I drink to you, my friend, mit hip—hip—hip—hooray!” + </p> + <p> + “You have more than repaid me,” replied the Count, “by the spectacle you + have provided. Dear Baron, it was a panorama calculated to convert a + continent!” + </p> + <p> + “To vat should it convert him?” inquired the Baron with interest. + </p> + <p> + “To a creed even merrier than Socialism, more convivial than Total + Abstinence, and more perfectly designed for human needs than Esperanto—the + gospel of 'Cheer up.'” + </p> + <p> + “Sheerup?” repeated the Baron, whose acquaintance with the English words + used in commerce and war was singularly intimate, but who was occasionally + at fault with terms of less portentous import. + </p> + <p> + “A name given to the bridge that crosses the Slough of Despond,” explained + the Count. + </p> + <p> + The Baron still seemed puzzled. “I am not any wiser,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Never cease thanking Heaven for that!” cried Bunker fervently. “The man + who once dubs himself wise is the jest of gods and the plague of mortals.” + </p> + <p> + With this handsome tribute to the character and attainments of one of + these heroes, and the Baronial roar that congratulated the other, our + chronicle may fittingly leave them; since the mutual admiration of two + such catholic critics is surely more significant than the colder approval + of a mere historian. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Count Bunker, by J. 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